


Kleos and Aidos

by Gingernutting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (only in chapter 3), Aftermath of Torture, Alien Biology, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Torture, I'm Bad At Summaries, Mild Angst, Mild Gore, OOC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recovery, Sexual Assault/Rape, Torture, Will edit later, an alternate ending to season 2, this is gonna be one of those recovery fics probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 16:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10136810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingernutting/pseuds/Gingernutting
Summary: A lot can happen in five seconds, can't it? You could read a sentence, you could start a car, you could completely change your fate. Within five measly seconds, Keith is stuck between a rock and a hard place, and help is only a few hundred galaxies away.





	1. Chapter 1

 

For once, the silence over the comms was not fearful.

 

Keith gulped, the Emperor's crippled and torn body floating away from them. The armour he wore as a trophy now broken into a million little pieces, drifting and spinning from all sides, away from the body they failed to protect. Keith exhaled heavily, his body relaxing with it.

 

The silence was not fearful, or tense, but relieved. Relieved that this 'destroy a ten thousand year old empire' bullshit was now in the dust. Relieved that these were the final moments of a tyrannical dictator. Relieved that finally they could go home.

 

 _"Guys? Yeah, this is great an' all, but we gotta g-"_ Pidge started, cut off by a grunt as Voltron divided, a swarm of lights flooding the battlefield as a Galra fleet honed in on them. _"-yeah, we gotta go!"_

 

 _"Paladins! Get to the Castle, we might just make it!"_ Allura encouraged over the comms.

 

"On it." Keith bounced back, but one look back and a feeling of absolute dread spilled into his gut. The Black Lion wasn't responding at all.

 

 _"Keith, something's wrong with Shiro!"_ Pidge's voice wavered as Green swooped past him and Red. It would be faster with two.

 

"Hang on Pidge, I'll help!" Keith called back, whirling around to follow Pidge in retrieving Black and Shiro.

 

If there was a god out there, Keith was praying that Shiro would be fine, that he was just...unconscious in the cockpit and only needed a few ticks in a healing pod. Good as gold by tomorrow, right? He only just got his brother back, and the universe couldn't be cruel enough to split them up again, right? It wouldn't be _that_ cruel, right?

 

At least Keith hoped so.

 

With Red's claws deep in Black's shoulders, flanked by Green, Keith thought they would make it. At least until Green got clipped on the shoulder right as they were nearing the castle.

 

Shiro would be fine, Keith only needed a minute to take out a fleet. That way, they could be sure they won’t be followed through the wormhole back.

 

"Guys, I'm gonna hold 'em off-"

 

 _"Keith, dude, Allura an' Coran have thi-"_ Lance retorted.

 

"No! They're too close! I'll only be a minute!" Keith stubbornly decided, letting Red turn on full throttle away from the Castle.

 

_"Keith! No you-"_

 

"I'll be fine, Hunk!" Keith snapped back, flicking on the front thrusters so Red was flying backwards, firing well-aimed plasma rays at the insect-like ships. The ships fell like flies, Keith noted with satisfaction. It still wasn't enough, as a few stray ships gained into the castle.

 

"Fuck." Keith muttered, drumming his fingers on the steering rod as his eyes darted around, his gaze settling on the Mothership. Maybe he could distract them by firing directly at the mothership? They'd have no choice but to go after him, right? He could either:

 

 A) Execute the plan perfectly and be back in the castle in no time.

 

Or

 

B) fail miserably and risk getting captured if he's too late.

 

Good thing Keith was never one for following rules. His friends, and possibly his only family, _always_ come first.

 

Twisting Red around, Keith aimed her cannons at the ship's main docking bay, and at the simple pull of a lever it was completely obliterated. Oops, There goes the docking bay. Oops, there goes central command. Oops, there goes the Ion cannon. Keith hated to admit it, but zipping through the air, an entire fleet of Galra bombers on his tail, and destroying everything he touched, it was a twisted type of fun.

 

Keith grit his teeth, eyes darting around and absorbing his alien environment, taking in every weak spot, shortcut and ship. A roll to the left. A swerve above. A dive under. Keith just may have let himself go a bit, wickedly smiling as the sight of a missile smashing it's target.

 

 _"Keith! We have to go,_ now! _"_ Allured barked back at him, her voice strung and strained. Allura was usually calm, even in the thick of battle, and with her voice so strung and frantic, he didn't want to push her buttons.

 

”On my way.“ Keith affirmed back, tapping his fingers on the pilot’s seat armrest. ”Hey Red, you good to go?”

 

A low growl filled his head, one enough fire still left in it that almost seemed reluctant to leave the battlefield. But she had good judgement, and she took over the steering. Keith wasn't expecting his head to crack against the seat with a thub when she lurched forward at full speed, blasting her way out of this place like a flaming comet.

 

“Red!? What’re y-” Keith started, but his voice cracked and faltered as he stared ahead. It was like something just out of reach, seeing that brilliant swirling blue and purple portal shrink. He could just see the Castle silhouetted against a cloak of stars before being absorbed into the light.

 

And just like that, they were gone.

 

Red still plummeted towards them, coming to a halt as they passed right through where the castle left through the portal. Gone. Gone. Gone. Not even a trace of quintessence floating in the space around them. Fuck, he didn't even know where they were going next.

 

Keith’s mouth felt dry, his head like it was stuffed full of cotton and his fingers shook gripping the levers.

 

“This is Keith--anyone there?” He asked over the comm, and it took him aback at how small his voice was. He scowled at the silence and raised his voice a little higher. No, he couldn't be alone, they had to hear him, they just had to, they wouldn't just leave him here, right? “Th-this is Keith, Keith Gyeong, paladin of th’ Red Lion...anyone, come in? Please, I-I need you to come in.“

 

The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Taking a quick glance down at Red’s rapidly flashing screens, an entire fleet was honed onto him, the bright yellow dots gaining in on and closing around a large red one in the middle of the screen. It was more like a sea of yellow, a bunch of small yellow dots that took up half the screen. Keith took off his helmet and leaned back with a heavy sigh. He didn't want to cry, he didn't want to scream, or curse, or blame the empire for dragging him by the feet into this mess-he just felt hollow. He couldn't blame Allura or Coran or the other paladins, this time it was all on him.

 

 _“Surrender, or be destroyed. You have five minutes, paladin.”_ A heavy voice crackled over the comm, and he could almost hear the victorious smirk in his voice. What would they do to Red? Zarkon only seemed interested in the Black Lion, but if you want one, you’d want the other too. But she had a shield, she could protect herself if she wanted to. Chances were they would possibly kill him for a Galra to take his place, but not without torturing him for information. Maybe they would throw him to the arena like they did with Shiro, maybe they would brainwash him and turn him against Voltron, who knows? Whatever they had planned, Keith knew it wouldn't be pretty.

 

“Red? I’m--I don't know what to say, girl--but...it’s been a honour, thanks.” Keith thanked Red, his voice wavering a bit. “You’re th’ best kitty in th’ universe, I mean it.”

 

She even purred at him, in that familiar soothing tone. To describe it, it sounded similar to the warm honey-tone strings of a viola, one with the wood mellowed out and aged. Keith first heard one at the orphanage when he was six, his roommate had one, he wasn't the best and he wasn't the worst but he fell asleep to a new melody every night. Those were times that Keith thought he would never miss, now here he was, drifting in a lion through space with the possibility of being dead in a few hours. God, he wanted to smash his head against something. He was only twenty-one, he wasn't old enough to reminisce about his shitty childhood like an elderly man in a nursing home would. The mind is a funny thing.

 

Keith held the comm back up to his face, hesitating, but he had to give in eventually. He inhaled then exhaled deeply to steady himself

 

“I surrender.” he whispered.

 

Through the radio, he could hear astonished murmurings and whispers of a hundred Galra ships. Then again, it wasn't everyday a paladin of Voltron submitted himself to Zarkon. They’d be honored back the station for helping to capture him, probably get a promotion or a salary raise, Keith thought with a sour taste in his mouth.

 

“I surrender!” Keith yelled into the comms, making himself definite. With his heartbeat drumming through his ears and his hands shaking, he finally admitted defeat. He bit the inside of his cheek and tilted his head back against the seat, closing his eyes just to not look at the flood of ships.

 

 _“We thank you for your compliance, remain still for the tractor beam.”_ The same voice crackled back, only it was softer and almost sounded pitying, the happy excited tone completely vanished from it. Violet light flooded the cabin and Keith bit his lip, willing himself not to cry.

 

After all, we all get what we deserve, don’t we?

 

-

 

No.

 

Allura couldn't accept this. Her eyes felt wet and her jaw quivered as she searched through the security feeds of the hangars. Five hangars, but only four lions.

 

 _“Uh, Allura? Are you alright?”_ Lance asked, his voice had lost the usual flirty tone and was now, unsettlingly, dead serious.

 

 _“Princess? Is something wrong? Why do ya sound like th-”_ Pidge cut herself off after staring at the camera feeds broadcasting to the lions, it didn't feel complete, not when she noticed the Red Lion had not returned.

 

Allura gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth, stifling her sobs, not even caring that the others could all hear her. She didn't even realise she was zoned out until the others were begging for her to open up the castle doors and Coran was hugging her tightly.

 

“Princess, you have to listen to me--princess,” Coran planted his hands on her shoulders with a small huff, brow furrowed and his lip scrunched at the edge. “We _will_ get Keith back, but for now, Shiro needs you, we all do. Help us out, I can _promise_ you as soon as we’re ready, we’ll bust him out of there. Do you understand?”

 

Blue eyes met blue eyes, and Allura was to first to break the stare, looking down at her hand as she tapped the side of the palm pilot with her little finger, a small beep echoed through the halls and every door was open. Coran nodded in satisfaction.

 

“And we need a pod.”

 

~

 

The system they had seeked refuge in was a twin star galaxy, two suns burning brightly as they whirled around each other in an eternal dance, a dance that would continue until they both burned each other out. It was bittersweet, in a way, reminding her of an old Altean tale used to explain it; of the two suns that loved each other so, they danced and danced and danced until they turned to dust in each other’s arms. Sure, it was considerably dark for a children’s tale, but it was such a tale ingrained into their memories and culture, it didn't matter anymore.  

 

Allura stared up at the stars, surrounded by a blanket of constellations, as they danced.

 

Her hard pale pink nails drummed against the steel of the rail of the observatory, the inky black ground polished to the point where it held a perfect mirror of the skies above. She didn't even notice someone enter.

 

“Princess?”

 

Allura didn't even hear the hushed voice at first.

 

“ _A-hem,_ Princess.” The voice repeated more firmly. Allura jumped and spun around a bit too quickly, meeting Pidge’s hazel eyes, blown wide in surprise.

  
“Woah, okay, sorry for scarin’ you...sorry, I’m just...not that good at-” Pidge started.

 

“N-no! That’s--that’s quite alright. Is Shiro out yet?” Allura interrupted, fidgeting with her fingers anxiously.

 

“Not for another vaga.” The small woman sighed. “Mind if I join ya?”

 

Allura nodded and turned back to the railing, folding her arms on it and resting her chin, Pidge joining her right side in the exact same position.

 

“You really scared us back there, y’know.” Pidge added, but as soon as she said the words a sour expression took over her face. “I mean, we all were, of course, we just lost Keith, wh-why wouldn't we be scared? But you?”

 

Allura turned around to meet Pidge again, then guiltily looked away.

 

“I guess I was just--I wish I wasn't so thick. When I found out that Keith was Galra, I let my prejudice get in the way of how I saw him. They took my family, they took my home, and knowing that, I just...looked at him and saw the enemy instead.” She admitted. Even if they got him back, Allura would never truly forgive herself for how she treated him.

 

No, _when_ they got him back.

 

“To be honest? I can sorta see why you’d think that. Wanna hear something? Actually, the mice might have already told you, I still don’t know how they manage to figure our shit out.” Pidge replied, and she also mirrored Allura’s guilty expression, pushing at her glasses with her fingertips.

 

Now why would Pidge hold a prejudice? Allura leaned in a little more, now dying to know.

 

“Wh-when I heard that my brother an’ father were dead on th’ Kerberos mission, an’ it was caused by pilot error...I honestly hated Shiro for a while, I blamed him for the deaths of my family, even though, well--surprise, surprise, it wasn't him at all. I still hated him. I’ve known Shiro for as long as I could remember, honestly, he was like some--honorary family member to me, an’ I was just so pissed that my brother an’ father were dead...I just s-sorta put all the blame on him.”  She said, stumbling over her words.

 

Allura could see why she would feel that. After all, grief does unthinkable things to a person, and she was quick to blame Zarkon for the deaths of everyone on Altea (even though she was right in the end). Because god knows it, they had both been there.

 

“But you don’t hate Shiro anymore, do you?”

 

“What? No! He’s...he’s like a second dad to me, I don’t hate him. And even though I always had this weird gut feeling that my family wasn't dead, I still dumped the blame on him.” Pidge finished, hoisting herself up onto the rail, leaning her back against the glass and tilting her head up. “I miss Keith. You miss Keith. But yeah, I see why you’re feeling like shit. You sorta treated him like shit, an’ now that he’s possibly imprisoned an’ might be dead all that is comin’ back an-” Pidge cut herself off, biting her lip as she blinked back her tears, hating herself for stepping over the line. Allura stared at her with a shocked expression set into her face like stone. Pidge swallowed thickly and wiped her eyes, her chest panging and aching. “S-sorry Allura.”

 

Allura looked up at Pidge, her lip trembling and her eyes watery, and without thinking she pulled her into a warm hug. She couldn't bare to tell her, Allura knew what the Galra did to their prisoners. If anything, she would prefer Keith had a quick death than a slow agonising torture. Allura had seen firsthand what they did to their prisoners of war: endless torture, humiliation and experimentation, then they just shove them into a healing pod and do it all over again. Shiro was living proof of that, they all knew about his flashbacks and night terrors that left him speechless and trembling. But back then he was just a lowly prisoner and slave, what would they do to a paladin of Voltron? Possibly-no, _definitely_ put him through even more. Allura bit her tongue at the thought of bringing it up, she didn't want them to worry even more than they already were, instead she pressed her face into Pidge’s shoulder.

 

“We’ll get him back. As soon as Shiro’s out, we’ll get him.” Allura whispered, and she couldn't hide the doubting shake in her voice.

 

-

 

Even in a dead-end situation like this, Red never failed to protect him, stubbornly keeping her particle barriers up around them, growling at every soldier who dared to venture within twenty feet of her shields. It was comforting, curled up on the floor of the cockpit, blurring his vision and his surroundings as a means of escaping boredom, clutching his bayard. The metal floor was cool, and the air was crisp with a sharpness that tanged at Keith’s nostrils, the crimson lights of the cabin were dimmed down to power-saving mode and cast a red haze and glow over everything, glinting off the glass and metal and plastics, to the point where almost everything had a faint red hue to it. Keith groaned and rolled over, propping himself up into his elbows as his head spun for a few moments, before reluctantly picking himself up off the floor. He wiped at his eyes and stumbled over to the front of the cockpit to squint through the glass. Just as he expected, twenty sentries were stationed in front of them, intimidating with their overly large guns and emotionless stares. Keith surpassed a chill and slumped back down to the ground. It had been almost two days. Hunger was something he was no stranger to, but dehydration was what got under his skin, turning his mouth into cotton and numbing his head. With a light snort, he almost regretted pissing on the floor underneath them through a small hatch as a ‘fuck you’ to the guards and Zarkon, because if he had pissed in an empty bottle, he would’ve gladly drunk it. If Bear Grylls could do it, so could he.

 

“What are we, Red?” He spoke up, his natural tone was husky, but it sounded rough and dry with dehydration.

 

 _‘You are both human and Galra, I am a warship’._ She curtly replied. Oh yeah, she made a habit of actually talking in words to him now. Actual words being fed directly into his brain.

 

“No, I mean, is there a purpose for any of this?” Cliche questions, but it helped stave off the boredom. If the dehydration didn't kill him, then the boredom would surely fry his brain.

 

_“You survive for the sake of surviving. You exist just because.”_

 

She was straight to the point with her words, impulsive and sharp, just like her.

 

“Just for the sake of it, huh?”

 

 _“That is the natural instinct. You fight, you flee, you feed, you procreate, all for the sake of your species living for a few more years. It’s what you make of that time that matters.”_ Red answered, and her screens flickered to life. The images were fuzzy and a little blurred, but Keith could see what they were: snapshots of him and the others through her eyes. Many of the shots seemed random, but she obviously thought them of importance. They flickered by like a flipbook, so fast and so many he could barely make out any but a handful. A shot of the other lions, during that time they literally tried to build Voltron from the ground up. A shot of Keith with Pidge in her hangar, staring intently at Pidge’s laptop as they installed new software onto her systems. A shot of his and Hunk’s farewell before they travelled to the Weblum. All random moments, but she stopped on the last one. A single image of him floating in space, looking angry and terrified and awestruck all at once, with her reflection in his visor, back when she accepted him as her paladin at the Galra ship. She lingered on that image for a while.

 

 _“You’ve grown so much in the months since I found you. Humans are a funny little primitive species. You value the bonds of others so much, you find meaning and joy in the littlest and most insignificant of things, you take risks, without even thinking of the consequences, just for the sake of it. I thought it was a wonder humans managed to survive so long as a species, but now it’s all clear. My cub, you are_ you _, and I will not give you up without a fight.”_ Red proudly spoke, sending Keith a swell of emotion: happiness, pride and love. She had never spoken for this long before either.

 

A bout of dizziness smashed Keith right in the side of the head like a brick, forcing his knees to buckle under him, leaving him kneeling in a crumpled heap on the floor and his vision blurring with his spinning head. Pinpricks of light danced before his eyes, and the last thing he felt was the ground rushing up to meet him, the cool metal pressed against his cheek.

 

The last thing he heard was the particle barrier, the only thing protecting him from the Galra, crumbling away.

 

~

 

Keith woke up on cold hard ground again, but this time he was lying on his back in a cell of sorts. Staring up at the roof, he could count the lines along the black metal, see the soft violet light that seeped from under the cracks of the cell door and through the small barred window. He pulled a face and wiped the crust from his eyes, running a hand over his face to find a plastic tube resting on his lips and chin, going up through his nose. His fingers stroked down it until they touched a soft squishy bag attached to the wall. Were they drugging him up? Was it just water? Both? His mind didn't want to think, still feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton, but at least his mouth wasn't as dry. His lips were still cracked though. Just as he managed to rest himself on his elbows the door slammed open, a tall Galra, with a gun on it's back and a thin tail lashing around it's ankles, knelt down next to him. Keith froze as he stared at the visor where the alien's eyes were. With that purple tinted visor, it was hard to see exactly where it was looking at, but the chill down his back told him he was locked in a literal staring contest with a Galra. Snapping it's hand out it tightly gripped his jaw, claws digging into the soft skin of his cheek, and tilted his head back. Keith hissed and tried to punch at it, but his fist was lazy with fatigue and barely did anything, and the tube in his nose was harshly ripped out. Trails of liquid and blood streamed down to his lips, and he licked it off with a flick of his tongue. The Galra quickly jerked Keith's arm behind his back, forcing him to bend over onto the floor as his wrists were cuffed with electric ties that buzzed his skin. He grunted and sneered up at the guard. Keith regretted leaving his helmet with Red. In fact, where was she?

 

“Wh-"

 

“No.” The Galra snapped back.

 

“Bu-"

 

“No. Come with me.” It cut off again, gripping him roughly under the armpit and heaving him to his feet. His balance swerved, but with the Galra holding him he wouldn't fall.

 

He was guided down the hallways. The hallways were dim and had the strips of the same violet light running across the walls, and Keith kept his head lowered as they passed other Galra soldiers. Could they talk any louder? Their murmurs weren't exactly trying to be hidden at this rate, and whenever he looked up he was met with a condescending glare. Some of the Galra even reached out to touch him, touching his shoulders and hair, as if they couldn't believe they had an actual paladin of Voltron kept prisoner in their ship, seeing the sworn enemy in the flesh. Surprisingly they weren't rough, and touched and stroked him as if he was a delicate kitten. Or in this case, precious merchandise not to be damaged too much.  

 

_“You seen a creature like this before?”_

 

_“Doesn't talk much.”_

 

_“Nah, it's weird, can't put my finger on it though.”_

 

Talking as if he couldn't hear them. But to be honest, if he was in their position he would probably do the same. The only other humans they had probably heard of were Shiro, back when he was the champion, and Pidge's family. Of course they would be curious. With the amount of space they've conquered they would surely be recording hundreds of different species, cultures and customs. What if they had an entire archive filled with their knowledge on the ship? But that would mean that Keith would be their toy to be poked and prodded. Keith surpassed a shiver and averted his eyes to the floor, not flinching when the enemy reached out for him like wide-eyed children.

 

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the hallways, Keith was taken to a room. Well, it was more like shoved in than taken to, really. The room had a taller ceiling than his cell and the hallways, and it was more brightly lit, but only by a fraction more. Two burly guards shouldered him roughly, and when he whirled around the guard that took him there was leaving through the closing door. Keith couldn't drag his eyes away from the door as he was walked forwards, the guards pushing his lower back with the butts of their guns.

 

“High Druid Haggar, this is the Voltron paladin captured at the last battle with the Alteans.” The guard to his left announced, his voice was low and smooth. “Just as you wanted.”

 

A pair of glowing yellow eyes broke through the shadows, slim and scrutinising him, before the shadow was lifted like a veil. A hunched figure slowly walked forwards, a scowl on her face and her long clawed fingers balled into fists. Two long red marks, possibly scars or paint, ran down the sides of her face and contrasted against her lilac skin, rippled with her wrinkles and bags under her eyes. Long silver hair spilled from her hood and down her chest like waterfalls. Even in her state, Keith could tell she was probably once very beautiful, how she ended up looking so grotesque and stern, he didn't know.

 

“So _you're_ the paladin.” The druid-no, Haggar rasped, like her throat was shredded and torn. She was shorter than him, but the glint in her eye made him not want to take any chances, or at least any too rash. She squinted up at him, studying him like a book. “They get younger and more reckless every time.” she spat, whirling away from him, cloak billowing around her.

 

Keith growled and harshly elbowed the guards away, quickly dropping to a knee to spring up at her with more force, a fist raised above his head and ready to strike. This was _Haggar,_ she helped destroy lives and worlds and entire solar systems just for the sake of getting a little more quintessence for her high.  

 

 _“You!”_ He screamed at her, but he barely had his hand at her throat before some force gripped him tightly and tried to squeeze the life out of him like a hungry python.

 

Keith’s eyes blew wide and he choked on his breath, frozen and suspended in the air. Failed step one: don’t do anything too rash. This was unfair, she was _right there_ , he was just so close to just breaking her windpipe swiftly-

 

Wait...a shiver ran through him at the thought. Animalistic was a word he could use to describe it. But it’s better to take down one evil messily than let it destroy other things, right?

 

She frowned at him, claws outstretched at him with pure black matter glowing from her fingertips. Not matter- _magic._ The guards took his sides again, taking hold of his shoulders when he was dropped out of her weird spell. Keith gasped for breath on the floor and dry coughed a few times, every cough shaking his weakened body, but he refused to stay on his knees for too long.

 

“Do you even know the damage you've done? All for the sake of being _righteous?_ Do you know how many lives you've destroyed, how many families you've broken, how many cuts you've made? When you shot down those ships, I doubt you even cared for the lives inside them.” She continued, turning around to glare at him with her lip curling. “Thousands of lives you and your little friends have taken. I could list many of them from the last attack for you, since you seem so desperate to know. How ironic, for the so-called 'protectors of the universe' to destroy almost everything they touch.”

 

She raised her gnarled hands to the air, a large screen fizzed to life, showing an image of a Galra, smiling warmly at the camera in a crisp new uniform with his right fist over his chest, eyes crinkled with his smile and a small layer of thick purple fur on his face. Next to it, an image of the same pilot, but with what looked like a Galra woman at his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek, two small Galra, _children,_ on their shoulders. Keith swallowed thickly but couldn't look away at this happy family.

 

“Pilot Druter Restrag Almany, married to Fala Restrag Almany, with their two cubs Lilith and Tres Restrag Almany. Died from a blast fired from the Red Lion.” She stated in a tone as if she was reading out the weather forecast.

 

The shot changed to a video, of the same Galra woman-Fala, with her cubs, one of which was on her hip and crying into her shoulder, the other pressed against her side weeping. It looked like it was taken from a security camera, with them at a government's desk, a letter clutched in her hand and a silver medal on the desk in front of them. The shot was blurry and in black and white, but there was no mistaking the heart-wrenching howls of her and her children as they were told about the death of her husband and their father. Fala fell to her knees at the desk, pulling her children close to her as they wailed and screamed openly in the room, tears running down their furry cheeks and their curled up forms shaking with every sob. Even the Galra woman at the desk jumped over the desk to comfort them as they reacted the only way they could. Keith knew he could never get those screams out of his head.

 

At once a stab of guilt twisted itself in Keith's gut. The whole time he was thinking about how he did this to them. He knew how much it hurt to lose his father back when he was just five years old, how he knew he didn't want anyone to go through what he did, and here he was. Keith felt a lump rise in his throat at Fala and her children grieving. The video thankfully stopped at Haggar's barked command.

 

She turned to face him, enjoying the way he squirmed at the guilt.

 

“Pilot Welgit Ferita, widowed with cub Rena Ferita.” Haggar announced, this time it was an image of a Galra man with droopy yellow eyes, a small bit of facial hair and a soft smile, in a pilot's uniform with a medal over his left side. To the left was a picture of him, wearing a pair of the Galra equivalent of jeans and a buttoned blue top, and a Galra cub wearing a light yellow dress with many pockets, sitting on a flight of steps in front of a grand looking building (that seemed like a library) sharing a plate of food on their knees with a couple of books at their side. They were grinning at the camera, waving and laughing. The next video was of a woman, who looked to be Welgit's sister from their similar facial features, with Rena at a very similar office, bursting into tears at the desk with her hands clasped over her face as they were handed the letter and the same silver medal.

 

“This is Welgit's sister, Welga, and Rena upon finding out her brother and Rena's father are dead from a shot fired by the Red Lion.” Haggar continued, still with that emotionless voice.

 

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at the floor as the gravity of what he had done settled in. His chest tightened and panged and his jaw trembled. War was war, but there was no such thing as a good one.

 

“Oh but paladin, we have barely started. We still have far more to go. You are weak, you value the lives of others just so much yet you have no problem in destroying them. Hypocritical isn't it?” She taunted, tilting his chin up with the tips of her claws. Her fingers had many gold rings and many blisters and her claws were painted a deep red.

 

Keith gulped and stared at her, grinding his teeth and pouring as much venom into his stare as he could.

 

“Is this it? This--this is nothing, I-I can take it!” He spat at her finally, and he knew as well as she that every word was a lie, an effort to convince himself that these lives didn't matter. Of course they did. _Everything_ mattered, no matter what it was.

 

“Can you?” She drawled back, and something crushed down onto his shoulders, forcing him to his knees, staring up at her. Small shimmering black flecks floated up from her fingers then faded on the air.

 

The screens changed from soldier to soldier, from broken families to grieving friends. And all the times, the sobs and the cries and the screams echoed in the room all around him. Keith tried, he really did, to swallow the lump that blocked his throat and to blink back the tears that threatened to spill. The Galra were truly sadistic: with physical torture, the wounds will heal, but with guilt? He could never forget even if he wanted to.

 

It lasted hours, hours of names and faces flashing before his eyes. And by the end of it Keith couldn't hold it back anymore, staring down to the ground at the tears that dripped off the tip of his nose and onto the metal floor, violet light reflecting off the water. His breaths were shallow and choked with sobs, and every time he tried to force them back down it only hurt more. His whole frame shook and shuddered by the time it was over.

 

The screens flickered to nothingness and Haggar pivoted around. Her face was sullen and her brow was furrowed, why wouldn't she be? For a brief glimpse Keith was absolutely sure he saw sorrow pull at her frail features before shaking them off as if nothing happened.  

 

“Take him back to the cell the long way, he has two varga before the _real_ fun begins.” She instructed to the guards, who managed to stay perfectly still while guarding Keith the whole time. Right as they pulled him up by the armpits, Keith tried to shove them away, and at once his body froze up, just like when he was forced to his knees. Must be Haggar's doing.

 

“If you so badly want information, wh-why don't you just ask!?” Keith barked at her through his teeth.

 

“You and I both know you wouldn't give up information that easily. Everyone has a trigger, all we have to do is find and exploit it.”

 

“Wh-why don't y'just take me to Zarkon himself? Hm?”

 

She winced at Zarkon not being referred to by his title, Keith noted as a small victory. “You really think we would take our worst enemy to our only leader? Not until you're begging for mercy and kissing his feet would we let you anywhere near him.” She calmly retorted, a sneer on her face. He faintly caught her muttering something about the 'young and dumb' before she turned around, two tall looming figures with long white masks on their faces and light black cloaks on their shadowy forms appearing out of thin air at her side. “Go. I have my duties. Don't be afraid to rough him up this time.”

 

Keith felt his heart drop at the words, especially when the guards roughened their grip on him, dragging him across the ground to the door before he even had a chance to find his footing. He didn't want anyone to see him like this: red faced, teary eyed, vulnerable. If there was any word to describe how he felt, weak would have been his best bet.

 

But then again, we all get what we deserve, right?

 

Today was the day that it really sunk in, the fact that he was a murderer. The last thing he needed was their pity.

 

The Galra that swarmed the hallways, all clamoring for a look, just a glimpse, of the famed Red Paladin, made Keith feel so trapped. They were far too close, far too tall, far too loud. He bit the inside of his cheek, as the Galrans reached out for him again. Some of them were surprisingly gentle, stroking his face as he walked, while some of them were unsurprisingly harsh: tugging at his hair and digging their claws into his suit. More than once they were stopped when an enraged Galra flung themselves at him.

 

 _“You!”_ One of them, a tall Galra man with bared teeth and murder in his eyes, flung himself at Keith, bowling them both over onto the floor. Keith didn't want to fight back, even with the Galran's teeth so close to his face, with hot breath slightly disturbing his hair, he didn't have the will to fight back. “You killed my baby brother! _You killed my baby brother!”_ The Galran screamed, and the murder in his eyes shattered into sorrow, tears not his own falling onto Keith's face.

 

“I-I'm sorry.” Keith whispered, arms up in a surrendering action as the Galra mourned above him. His lips quivered and in the same moment tears spilled down his face again, mirroring the Galra's own above him.

 

“No...you aren't.” The Galra choked, the guards grabbing him by the collar and moving him away with a few hushed words.

 

It was a blur after that. The guards now rushed him down to his cell, threw him in and locked the door. Only they were in there with him, and he was on his side on the floor thirty centimetres away from their feet.

 

He should have seen the kick to the gut coming. And the one to his ribs. And the one to his face and the other to his hip. Not once did he fight back. Murders didn't deserve pity. Oh who was he now? He's destroyed more lives than he's saved. He deserved this. We all get what we deserve. We all get what we deserve. We all get what we-

 

His thoughts were interrupted by spit flying into his face.

 

“You have a varga an' a half, paladin.” One of the guards, Keith didn't know which one, growled before slamming the door behind him.

 

-

 

A harsh jolt of static caught everyone's attention, the sound crackling and popping for a few seconds.

 

“Allura!? What is tha-" Hunk started, rubbing at his ears, before it abruptly disappeared.

 

Radio. It had to be. But from what exactly? What found their location? Five pairs of confused and scared eyes looked at her for an answer.

 

“Hang on, this is should only take a tick.” She announced back, pushing a few buttons and opening up a few small screens, only for the video call screen to show up, and for the rest of the lights on the bridge to dim, casting a soft blue glow on everything.

 

The screen was completely black, like something was blocking the camera, but the sound slowly grew. It was hard to make out what it was at first, it just sounded like someone holding back and stifling tears, sniffing and whimpering weakly. Footsteps crunched on the floor and the unmistakeable sound of metal hitting raw flesh shocked everyone, and the muffled whimpers and cries turned into screams.

 

 _“Tell us, what do you know?”_ A voice rasped out, low and dripping with venom.

 

 _“I-I told you--I don't know!”_  The whimpering figure cried out, panting and gasping and whimpering, they could almost hear every shake and sob that shook the voice's beaten body.

 

Not just any voice, and it made everyone's blood run cold. Lance's eyes flickered around the room, and in the dark, he could still make out Hunk trembling with his hands cupped over his mouth, eyes starting to look a little watery; Pidge with all the colour drained from her face and her eyes blown wide, and Shiro looking like he was about to spill his guts over the floor.

 

 _“Liar!”_ The raspy voice hissed, and this time Lance counted the whips. One whip. Two whips. Three whips. All punctuated by a glass-breaking scream.

 

 _“Please! I d-don't know! Stop it! S-stop it! Please, stop it!”_ The voice wailed, shuddering sobs and gasps breaking through it.

 

Lance glanced over at Allura and Coran, who stared up at the screen, like marble statues.

 

“Goddess, that's Keith.” Allura murmured, face showing nothing but fear and her hands trembled, her mouth gaping like a fish. Coran was the same.

 

“Allura, stop it.” Lance demanded, keeping his shaking voice as even as he could. He gulped, staring around the room at his friends looking terrified, wanting nothing more than to block Keith's heart-wrenching screams and cries out of his head. Keith _never_ begged for mercy, hell, no-one had even seen him cry before, and to hear him begging for mercy and screaming for whoever it was hurting him to stop, it was too much. Far too much.

 

“Allura, _stop it! “_ Lance yelled at her, and the frantic raise of his voice managed to snap her out of her trance. She jumped then abruptly turned off the transmission, the screams ceasing at once and the lights flooding the room again.

 

Lance blinked a few times for his eyes to adjust, taking in everyone's stunned reactions. He was lying if he said he didn't feel the shake in his hands, the tightness in his throat and the heave in his gut. Wherever Keith was, it wasn't good.

 

“What the _hell_ just happened!?” He burst out, furrowing his brow and casting stares at everyone. “You heard what I heard, didn't you!?”

 

Lance tightened his jaw and forced himself to swallow down the rage he just wanted to yell out.

 

“Allura, is there anyway y’can trace where that came from?” Pidge asked Allura, her jaw quivering, not being able to meet her eyes.

 

It only took a second for Allura to respond.

 

“No, the location is completely hidden. I'm so sorry.” She responded, though her last sentence was more of a croak.

 

The silence that blanketed the room was thick, and it felt like a wet cloth over their mouths: suffocating and stifling. Not surprising, they just heard their friend being tortured while begging for his life. If they reacted in any other way, something would have been seriously wrong.

 

God they needed to find him fast, at this rate, it would turn from a rescue mission into a body pick-up.

 

Lance heard Shiro puking in the kitchen sink a minute later. He didn't bring it up.

 

-

 

Keith barely had time to close his eyes before the cell was opened again. His eyes were so tired he could barely open them, and he was grabbed by the armpits by two pairs of hands, dragging him across the metal floor. After forcing himself to, he managed to get his eyes open a crack, but he only saw bleary red and violet lights saturating the walls and floor. It was significantly cooler as well, and his eyes closed again, but even with his eyes closed, he couldn't sleep. All he knew was that he wasn't in any room, too small for that, and the light was suddenly a lot brighter. He scrunched up his eyes and tried to shield them, but as soon as he moved his hands he was dropped on the floor and a foot was planted in the middle of his back, so his wrists could be cuffed again as well as his feet this time.

 

He managed to roll himself over onto his side so he wasn't so vulnerable on his stomach, and glanced up at the seats to his right. Was he in a pod this time? He may never find out.

 

Curled up on the floor, he closed his eyes and eventually drifted off into sleep.

 

~

 

The next time he woke up, he wasn't being dragged or moved, but he was rather on the cold, hard floor of a cell. It was almost identical to the one he was in before. The door opened and someone walked in, standing tall and straight. He hissed at the feeling of cuffs still scraping on his wrists and feet, but he couldn't do much else. The figure was not a guard, from what he knew. The Galra had on large brown boots and a black trenchcoat down to their knees. Keith stared up at them from the corner of his eye, even from here, the Galra had a sneer on his face, and a tooth overhanging his bottom lip. A beard was shaped into a faint goatee and his nose was broken.

 

“So you're the paladin.” He growled lowly, wrinkling his nose as he stared down at Keith. “How many men I've lost to you, the ferocious Red Paladin. Not so scary now, aren’t ya?” He added, crouching down and getting on one knee, watching Keith like he was a bird trapped in a small cage.

 

The Galra reached out and ran his fingers over Keith's cheekbone, claws ghosting over the scab from the last beating he got.

 

“Your species is soft and weak. You won't last long here, I'll make sure of it.”

 

Keith suppressed a shudder at the words.

 

“Wh-what use am I to ya dead? Y'might as well end this now if that's what y'so want.” Keith hissed back

 

“It is not in my orders to tell you why, but whatever happens,” The guard’s fine claws gripped onto Keith’s jaw, digging into the skin on the underside of his chin until it drew small beads of blood. Keith grit his teeth and tried not to show the pain that blossomed. “You will know that the longer you resist, the more of a living hell this will become. Or actually, don’t resist, that will also be fun. Oh what the hell, whatever you do, you’ll wish you were dead anyway.”

 

The guard dug his claws in deeper and pulled him to his knees just like that. Keith was just thankful that no major arteries were hit, even with the crimson that coated the lilac claws. The guard pulled a face at his stained claws and wiped them on the white of Keith’s paladin armour. Why they still let Keith keep his armour, he didn't know.

 

“Where do we start? Oh, I know, tell me a bit about yourself. My name is Traluga, and yours?” the guard-Traluga, mocked.

 

“It’s K-Keith.” He breathed as he gave in, lowering his head until his bangs covered his eyes.

 

“So _Keith_ , tell me about the Paladins.” Traluga stated, slinking over to a large gunmetal grey tube that was embedded into the wall behind him, like a curved window with frosted glass. It was symmetrical, with two screens on either side of the glass. It almost looked like the healing pods back at the castle, but of a more twisted design.

 

Keith smiled with a weak snort. If this Galra wanted to know more about his friends, he’ll give them information.

 

“Th’ Blue Paladin likes peanut butter, steals it from th’ Green Paladin-” Keith was cut off with a harsh slap to the side of his face. His skin stung from the impact, and it didn't help that it was on the side with the wound. So worth it.

 

“ _Useful_ information, _idiot!”_ Traluga snarled, hissing his displeasure through his bared pointed teeth. “I know you’re not going to give up anything too easily, but you’ve had your chance. Remove the armour.”

 

Keith thought the command was directed at him, but at the two looming figures grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him over onto the bone cold floor, he knew it wasn't. He didn't even realise they were there with how well they blended into the shadows. When they attempted to pry the armour off him, Keith made sure they'd remember it this time.

 

“Sons of bitches--get _off_ me!” he yelled, kicking his legs out and thrashing his form around to break their hold on him. “I said stop!”

 

He knew that commanding them was useless, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. He forcefully shoved them off his shoulders, kicking his legs out and raising and lashing out his fists. He didn't even care what he hit as long as he was hitting something. A fist collided with someone’s jaw, and his foot smashed against someone's soft gut. Keith grit his teeth and in one fluid movement, sprang to his feet and got into a proper fighting stance. He took fleeting glances around the room. A door was behind him, with a hand panel as the key. No biggie, he could interact with galra technology just fine, and then he’d look for Red. She was very silent, silent to the point where he couldn't even feel their bond or her presence in the back of his mind and it was driving him mad. Traluga stayed back, looking like he was reaching into his cloak for something, when one of the guards made a move to knee him in the gut, but Keith swiftly blocked it with a hard kick. A fist tried to get the side of his head-he just ducked out of the way and went for the guard’s exposed torso. A barrel of a gun was pointed at his abdomen, but he-

 

Keith choked mid-breath. Everything in the room stopped moving, like time itself was stopped. The guards were pushed to the side and Traluga was now in front of him, a scowl on his face. Keith’s jaw fell slack and his heart seemed to thunder in his ears and chest. Only when he looked down did he feel the pain blossom. A knife was embedded to the hilt right in his abdomen, just below his navel.  

 

Fuck.

 

Keith felt his chest collapse in on itself and he let out a shuddering gasp, falling to his knees and letting out strangled chokes. The knife moved with him, and he couldn't even cry out as it was slowly twisted all the way around for good measure. His mouth felt dry, his vision blurred and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe he couldn't breathe he coul-

 

“Now do you believe me?”

  
Out of all things, Keith could hear Traluga’s poisonous words as clear as day. He faintly heard the guards talking frantically as the knife was yanked out of his flesh with a wet pop. He slumped forward, and the last thing he felt was the cold hard ground against his wounded cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is still in too deep, while the others at the Castle might be onto something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for more than one graphic torture scene

  
  


The frosted glass in front of him crumbled away and vanished like vapor. It was just like a healing pod, and judging from his stiff joints, they had the same side effects too. Keith gasped deeply and grit his teeth at the chill the pod brought. It took a while for his vision to focus again, but he was leaned back against the wall and everything was pitch black.

 

_ “-very minor, should be ready.” _

 

_ “Where to? He must be kept alive, no matter how fragile his species his.” _

 

_ “Only minor damage to intestines and reproductive organs, and it's healed, he'll be fine.” _

 

Muffled voices was what made Keith's head tilt, staring at the soldier barely a hand's length away from him tinkering around with the screens on the pod, Traluga was on the other side of the room leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, Keith could just make out the outline of his intimidating figure, and he did not look pleased. Keith blinked and rubbed his eyes, and reality started to flow back to him.

 

“-is he?” Traluga implored

 

“Only a minor effect from the drugs, I suggest you tie him up now.”

 

It didn't take much for Keith to try and hold a fighting stance, but he just ended up losing his balance instead, leaning to the side of the pod as lights danced before his eyes and his ears popped. Once again, Traluga was in front of him, but this time he had two large rattling chains in front of him. Keith felt his mouth run dry and his heart drop at the sight. A clawed hand grabbed his arms, and when Keith tried to kick Traluga's shins out, he missed entirely and only succeeding in collapsing to the ground like a sack of shit, but he still feebly kicked against those legs weakly, even though it did barely anything.

 

“Are all humans like this!?” Traluga yelled in frustration, whipping back on his heel and dragging the chains, and Keith, along with him.

 

The chains were cuffed around his wrists, and it cut and scraped at his skin, the metal all rough and not cleanly cut. Keith hissed but didn't reply, and tried to yank his chains free, but Traluga had a grip of steel.

 

“Secure him.” Traluga commended to his two soldiers, and Traluga passed a chain to each guard, keeping a large and heavy foot planted on Keith’s chest. Keith held his breath as Traluga pressed down, sending sparks of pain shooting through his veins. Any more, Keith thought, and his ribs would crack.

 

After the clicks of two locks did traluga take his foot off him, and Keith took a moment to gasp deeply and prop himself up on his elbows. He felt naked without his armour, and Keith realised bitterly that everything would hurt even more now, and that his bayard was nowhere in sight and that Red had not reached out for him in what felt like forever.

 

“Wha’ did y’do to Red!?” Keith yelled out, baring his teeth at them. The soldiers and Traluga all shared a look.

 

“We don’t know, your lion is not on this ship.” Oddly enough, Traluga sounded genuine, and Keith had to take his word for it.

 

A soldier pushed Keith’s shoulders and lower back up, tilting him back to his knees with his thighs slightly spread. He curled a fist around the thick chains, giving them each an experimental tug. Each one was tightly bolted to the edge of the room, in the space where the wall met the floor, and they were firm, but not enough that he couldn't move them a little. He turned to look where they were fastened, and a groove that reminded him of traintracks ran up the walls, and by the looks of it the chains could be raised and lowered with a lever. Guess they still wanted him on his knees for now, and a sour taste filled his mouth.

 

“So  _ Keith _ , is there anything you can tell us about your little Voltron scheme? Remember, the more you resist, the harder this will get.” Traluga narrowed his eyes, pressing his hand to a print on the wall for a panel to fall out, a panel that looked like a small table. From this angle, he couldn't see what was on it, and it filled him with worry and tightened his throat.

 

Keith shook his head in defiance, and Traluga curled his lip, sending the soldiers a small glance, but it was apparently enough for them to position themselves by the door, staring at Keith with stony faces.

 

“Very well, you’ve already made your choice. Just remember,” Traluga started, running his hand along the table and gently stroking something on it, “you chose this.”

 

Beams of light flooded down from, the ceiling, and Keith flinched and squinted at the bright white light. After being in the dark for so long, it burned at his dry eyes, and when he opened them again, everything was washed in white. He could see Traluga pick up something, something long and thin, but everything was so white and for all that mattered he might as well be blind. 

 

All he knew was that it wasn't good.

 

He swallowed and stiffened when Traluga took a few brisk steps forward towards him, holding the thing at his side in his left hand. Keith just silently begged that whatever it was, it would be quick. The footsteps echoed in the still cell and stopped right behind him. The only thing Keith could hear apart from his thundering heartbeat in his ear was the soft sounds of Traluga breathing behind him. Keith closed his eyes, dug his blunt nails into palms and chewed the inside of his cheek as Traluga dug his claws into his shoulder, and the thing was held to his back, just at the nape of his neck where suit met skin. It was a knife, and he pressed down.

 

The tip of the weapon pressed against the knobs of bone and dragged down, splitting the suit, but cutting his skin with it. One wrong move, and Keith knew he would never move again. He froze and stayed deathly still and the knife crawled slowly down his back, splitting both fabric and skin, until it paused at the base of his tailbone. Only then did Keith release a tense breath. It stung like hell, but he’s been through worse, just a couple hours ago he was stabbed in the gut. This was nothing, he could survive this.

 

The claws dug under the split in the fabric of his bodysuit and started to peel it away, the cool air hitting his exposed skin made Keith shiver, and soon enough his back was bared to the blade behind him, and Traluga stalked back to the table, as if leaving his work half-done. He lifted what could only be described as a whip from the table, a tendril as long as Keith was tall studded with metal.

 

“You have one more chance, information or this.” Traluga said, a sadistic smile on his face.

 

“Fuck you.” Keith hissed and worked up a glob of saliva, spitting right the Galra’s feet. So worth it, just to see him wince in disgust just for a second.

 

“So be it!” Traluga yelled back and stomped his feet over behind Keith again, raising the whip up and barely giving Keith any time to anticipate the crack to his back.

 

It was like a rope of thorns. It stung, and it cut and it bruised. Keith grit his teeth and clenched onto his chains until his knuckles flared white. Fuck, nothing humans had could make up for this. And he thought a belt on the back of his hand was the most painful thing in the world, oh if six-year old him could see him now.

 

“Again?” Traluga drawled. Keith couldn't even find the strength to form words, gaping on thin air, so he closed his mouth and shook his head.

 

He could almost feel the monster’s shit-eating grin drilling into his back.

 

One whip.

 

Two whip.

 

Three.

 

All as bitter and severe as the last, each one making him jerk and twist in ways he didn't know possible, like a hundred knives shredding and ripping at his skin. By just five, he was slumped over and gasping for breath, but every rise and fall of his back made pain burn his nerves. He was sure it was blood trickling down his back, and he shuddered and made small choked sounds as another three rained down.

 

“Now tell me what you know, and this will stop.” Traluga said in a low voice, and Keith could feel hot breath against his ear. “Or, tell us the Castle’s next destinations, and this will stop.”

 

Keith furrowed his brow and looked down at the floor, where small beads of sweat were falling and glinting like raindrops on the metal.

 

“No.” he stated back. 

 

Traluga growled and took another step back, slashing Keith even harder this time, and he couldn't hold it back any longer.

 

He screamed. He screamed and wailed and cried. Each whip was pure agony, and god it  _ showed _ .

 

“ _ Tell me!”  _ Traluga bellowed at him, whipping him a few more times for good measure.

 

“I- _ I don’t know!”  _ Keith sobbed back.

 

Traluga, blissfully, stopped for a moment, and they were both breathing as hard as the other from sheer exhaustion. Traluga exhaled deeply and balled his hands into fists, his stiff knuckles popping with the motion.

 

“Tell us, what do you know?” his voice rasped, dripping with pure venom.

 

Keith gasped and panted, his bangs sticking to his forehead and sweat dripping into his eyes. Just so much pain, too much, far too much.

 

“I-I told you--I don’t know!” he choked between gasps and whimpers, his whole body shaking.

 

Keith knew he said something wrong when traluga growled, a deep rumbling that filled the room.

 

“ _ Liar!”  _ He growled, and raised his fist again.

 

One whip.

 

Two whip.

 

Three.

 

All of them were punctuated by a glass-shattering scream.

 

“ _ Please _ ! I d-don't know! Stop it! S-stop it!  _ Please _ ,  _ stop it! _ ” Keith wailed, and his throat felt raw. But he would not be silent. 

 

It didn't stop.

 

Not even when the whips met bone through the thinnest of membranes and Keith’s pleadings were reduced to breathy hisses. All Keith could think about was when it would stop, as the whips blurred into each other and time seemed to come to a complete stop. And all he could think of were the ragtag group of people he had come to know as family. 

 

By the time Traluga felt he was done, Keith had long since passed out, and he could see every knob and ridge of bone in his back, barely any skin in some places, and what was once pale like porcelain was red and spilling over his suit and feet and onto the floor. How delicate. It was barely half a varga, and already the human had barely anything left on it’s back. He sneered at it, the faint twitches of ruined muscle, tendrils of skin and sinew that were now just pale streaks against the raw red.

 

The fearsome and ferocious Red Paladin, now bleeding red onto a cold metal floor.

 

-

 

Back at the castle, everyone was tense. The silence in the planning room was unbearable. Even with six people in the room, it felt empty and cold, with no-one saying anything. Hunk sighed and placed his hands on the table palms down, just enough to make a sound that alerted everyone.

 

“Listen, guys, I know we’re all a lil’ upset, a lil’ scared an’ a lil’ tired, but I heard it, we all heard it--Keith needs us, an’ we can’t just sit on our hands like this.” Hunk stated firmly, frowning and passing a sympathetic look over to everyone. 

 

He heard Allura hum in agreement.

 

“We’ll all pitch in ideas, anyone have something? Anything?” She asked around, “I already have an idea: Pidge, Hunk, Coran--get the most powerful tracker you can, we can’t do much unless we get another recording, but until then, we can at least try.”

 

Lance knotted his fingers together and cleared his throat. “Hey, we can still search for prisoners on the ships, right? Sure, he might not actually be in a normal cell, but what if he was? Like, just think like a Galra: th’ first thing they’d want us to think about is to go for th’ most secure place an’ break into that, so if we did  _ that,  _ they would be expecting us, but if he was in a smaller place, like, I dunno, a small prison ship,  _ they _ might think that  _ we  _ might not go for those, get what I’m sayin’?”

 

A murmur of agreement roused them. It was a little far-fetched, but it was plausible.

 

“Good thinking Lance, and Allura is right, we can’t do much without another recording, but we can still free prisoners, even without Voltron.” Shiro said acknowledged.

 

At the mention of Voltron, a jolt of realisation struck them.

 

“Wait, Allura, couldn't the Red lion pilot herself? Remember when Keith was at th’ trails of Mamora or somethin’ and she just, boosh, busted into th’ base without anyone piloting her? Ya think she might be tryin’ to bust him out?” Lance added

 

Coran piped up. “That’s a good hypothesis, but if she did have him, why wouldn't she be here now? We’re a few hundred light years awa-”

 

Coran faltered and just looked down at the ground. Hundreds of light years away?

 

“Coran, I’m not th’ best at math, but how far is that approximately?” Lance asked, and you could almost see the gears in his head turning.

 

“Well Lance, you remember how far it was from Earth to Arus, right? Times that a few hundred times.” Coran replied, fidgeting with his fingers.

 

Almost everyone in the room looked at him with wide eyes. They left him behind beyond a  _ trillion  _ kilometres away. God, and Lance thought the distance from his bed to the fridge was long, this was far worse than they thought, to be exact, a trillion times worse than they thought. Even worse, if Lance’s theory was true, then he might not even be in the same galaxy where they left him.

 

Pidge suddenly gasped deeply. “Guys! Quintessence!” she blurted out, receiving more than one confused look.

 

“Uh yeah? What about it? Oh... _ oh!”  _ Hunk and Pidge looked at each other eagerly, like they were talking through a look alone.

 

“Okay, quintessence can be traced anywhere in the universe, right?” Pidge asked, her voice shaking in excitement.

 

“To put it that way, yes, it’s...it’s like a light, if it’s confined to a single area, it’s like light in the aspect that it’s stronger where the person or source is, and gets weaker as it fades out with their movement, and that their lingering amounts, I call them ‘lingers’, can be traced as well.” Allura explained, waving her hands around as she talked.

 

“What if we built a machine that could trace quintessence? It’s sorta unique per person, right? Oh! It’ll be like a dog! It’s sniff him out, an’ we find him that way!” Pidge bubbled, a grin forming on her face and small hands balled up into fists.

 

“Oh my god, my friends are geniuses!” Lance gushed back, sharing an excited look with his friends, while Shiro, Allura and Coran looked bewildered and awestruck that this possibly could work.

 

If anything, this could be their best bet at bringing Keith home.

 

~

 

They all met up in the engineering room not long after, with Coran’s mini library of old blueprints that might be useful and a bunch of ideas in their heads.

 

“If this idea of a dog-bot is gonna work, it needs quintessence to start off with, preferably something strong an’ fresh.” Coran implored, twirling his moustache.

 

“What, like sweat? Jizz?” Lance joked with a cocky smirk.

 

“Ew, gross, no need to think about that, but I dunno, doesn't he wear that jacket a lot?” Hunk suggested. 

 

“But how will we even collect it? You two got any ideas?” Shiro inquired to Coran an Allura. “You guys know a lot more about this sorta stuff than we do, obviously.”

 

“Well, how would you do it?” Allura asked. “We just take a swab of it, it’s like collecting any sort of identification.”

 

“And we have swabbing material in the medical bay, you lot, we’ll get a few.” Coran said, already on his way to the medical bay with Lance at his side.

  
  


It just occurred to them that this would be the first time they’ve opened up his room for two castle days. Everyone had a cotton swab with a sealed tube and a pair of plastic-y gloves just for the added protection, didn't want that much of their own quintessence splicing with his own after all. Shiro placed his hand on the doorplate after a moment of hesitation.

 

“It’s funny, he always felt odd about people rummaging through his stuff.” Shiro said as an afterthought.

 

What could they expect? It was just a room, identical to theirs in structure, but it looked lived in. The lights in the room were a hazy red, that glowed in strips along the dense polyethylene walls and ceiling. His bed, white sheets with a rose red duvet and two white pillows, was unmade and the sheets were twisted and crumpled. A few articles of clothing were thrown on the floor, a pair of black training leggings and a grey tank top still stained with sweat. A few oddities, such as a firelighter, a handful of small rocks and a few rather beautiful pieces of fine jewelry were on a shelf that was pulled out of the wall. The room had a funny smell to it as well, it smelt like him. It felt wrong to be in here, almost like Keith would crash down through the ceiling and kick them out himself.

 

“Okay guys, get swabbing. Don’t stay for too long, and try not to be too nosy.” Shiro cautioned, “remember, just treat this place like a crime scene.”

 

The others were already a step ahead of him, gently picking up various items and swabbing them. Shiro went straight for his cold bed. The pillows were weirdly positioned, one down by his feet and the other that would have been hugged to his chest. A few stray strands of black hair were still clinging to the fabric, so Shiro gingerly plucked them and stored them in the tube, swiping the pillow a few times with the cotton bud for good measure. Shiro felt his chest ache at the sight: a cold empty bed, one that belonged to the person he trusted most. 

 

Him and Keith went way back, back to when Keith was just an  overly-quiet-yet-somehow-aggressive ten year old biting his ankles, while he was seventeen and freshly accepted into the Garrison. Hell, he literally watched Keith grow up and mature before his eyes, and a lot can happen in that seemingly small period of time. Shiro still remembered all the times they spent together, from watching animated movies and Saturday morning cartoons in a pillowfort made from chairs and blankets to studying for the exam (that Keith insisted he didn't need help on, but probably wouldn't have passed without Shiro helping him studying for at least an hour a day) that granted Keith his own Garrison access. If anything, Keith helped Shiro grow up just as much. Shiro can't count how many times Keith had helped him out, stayed with him, listened to him, and just generally being there for him whenever he needed someone to count on (and Keith managed to talk him out of getting a UFO tattooed on his ass while drunk, so Shiro had to thank him for that too.)  

 

God, time flew by so quick, it just felt like yesterday that Shiro was hugging Keith goodbye for the last time for when he left on the Kerberos mission. Back when him and Matt were given the offer, Shiro was both stoked and disappointed. Stoked that he’d go to  _ outer _ outer space for one thing, not just moon orbits, and disappointed in that he wouldn't see Keith for over a year. And what would a year do to Keith? Apparently it did a lot, with the (surprise) extended period of time of two years and a bit, with a little thanks to the Galra. Two years had completely changed him. Just the little changes really got to him: Keith was taller for one thing and his hair had grown out, but he was also a lot more clingy, not that Shiro didn't mind. Keith had matured so much, it’s like Shiro left a child behind and came home to a man, and it made Shiro swell with pride.

 

But now he was gone, and for once in his life Shiro felt utterly hopeless. He would never tell the others, because what’s a leader if he can’t even reassure himself? Let alone his teammates? Back when he was still held by the Galra, they did unspeakable things to him, things that he couldn't tell the others, but because he trusted him so, he told Keith everything. He almost wished he hadn't, because now Keith knew exactly what was coming for him, but even worse if you plus the fact that Keith was now a sworn enemy of the Galra with information swarming in his head. 

 

Shiro shuddered and sealed the test tube.

 

-

 

This time when Keith woke, it wasn't to clawed hands grabbing at him or the glass of the pod cracking. Rather, the glass of the pod was still in place, but he was still awake.

 

His eyes were crusted with sleep, and they itched a little. His back still felt a little numb, but right now he was just relieved he was still alive. Hunger pains clawed at him though, and his mouth was dry. They needed him alive, right? If they so badly wanted him alive, why would they starve him?

 

Where was Red? Why hadn't she reached out for him yet? She was being so quiet it was like hell. She was always there for him, always near, never far. Now she was gone and...no, she couldn't be gone, she just  _ couldn't.  _ Why would she leave him? They--they loved and trusted each other, right? She was always so motherly and caring and she listened and she wasn't here and-

 

Keith felt his shoulder pop as he wiped away at his eyes, taking a second for his vision to focus and this time he saw someone on the other side of the glass tampering with the screens. Whoever it was seemed anxious and timid, and at his movement they tensed and bolted upright. Now this time, Keith was certain that there was something crawling on his back. The figure tapped the screen again without taking their eyes off him and the glass crumbled away, leaving Keith standing there in the cold. Without the glass, it was cold enough for his breath to condense in the air, and he groaned internally when he felt that his suit had been completely cut off at his hips.

 

The figure gingerly held out two narrow tubes in their hands, and pulled out two pouches that looked to be made from membrane out from their robe, which was long and black and flowed across their figure like water.

 

“I-I was instructed to--give these t-to you.” The figure spoke in a small shy voice. Even with their voice Keith couldn't figure out their gender.

 

Keith took one look at the tubes and pouches. They looked very similar to the ones that fed him back when he was on the other ship, and he let the figure press them and the pouches into his hands. The figure had small hands, hands that could have belonged to a child.

 

“I-I’m sorry, who are you?” Keith asked as gently as he could, rubbing his thumbs over the tubes, and the figure retracted their small hands quickly.

 

“You killed my mother.” Was all the figure said, and they took a few hesitant steps away from him before running for the door.

 

They weren't shy. They were  _ terrified _ of him. And it only reminded Keith just how much of a murderer he was. He had to drag his eyes away from the door, and they settled back to the pouches and tubes in his hands. They felt a lot heavier than they were.

 

Keith shakily exhaled and slowly sat down, his back still stinging and his knees crossed. Holding the tubes tightly in one hand, he reached around his back with the other, running his fingers along the skin. His fingers ghosted over raised bumps and knobs of skin, some of it particularly delicate in some places still, and the skin was marred and raised. Shit, he didn't even know if there was a scar where he was stabbed, he glanced down and sure enough there was; bumpy and pale pink, about as long as his middle finger, it ran down from his naval. To think that the pod had managed to heal a literal impalement but not the flesh wounds on his back--what if they purposely took him out early? Oh, they were good. They were sadistic. Bitterness ran through him as he realised just how destroyed his back was. Whatever they had planned for him next, it wouldn't be pretty. Not that he expected it to be. He curled over and stared down at the floor.

 

Keith curled his calloused hands around the pouches and held on tightly, until his nails dug tiny crescents into the heels of his palms. All he wanted to do was go home. 

 

The door once again opened with a faint swish, bright light flooding in and it seemed just so bright Keith pinched his eyes shut against it. He didn't open them until he heard the rattle of chains again, and he knew that Traluga was back with his guards from the three pairs of boots slapping the metal floor.

 

“Look at you, can’t even feed yourself?” Traluga sneered down at Keith, and he looked away. “Pathetic.”

 

Keith swallowed thickly and he dared himself to not look up, tightening his jaw and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

 

A quick flash of movement and pain exploded where a foot smashed into the underside of his chin, his teeth clattering together and his jaw falling loose. From the sheer force of it, Keith was knocked back and staring up at Traluga in shock, slack-jawed and blood filling his mouth from his burst lip. Traluga seized his moment of shock by crouching down and this time securing chains to his ankles, trenchcoat falling down on either side of him.

 

“Hope you’ve rested, because this one is a guaranteed shocker.” Traluga chuckled, reaching into his coat and pulling out a silver metal object in the shape of a ‘T’. What they were going to do with that, Keith didn't know, but every one of his instincts screamed at him to run.

 

Oh the irony.

 

The pole was plunged into the middle of his thigh, ripping through flesh and muscle and shattering bone, and just like the knife to his gut, it was twisted a full 360 degrees around with a heavy fist gripped onto the T-bar.

 

Keith screamed. He screamed and thrashed out with his good leg, his back arching and fists slamming against the floor. Fuck, he couldn't feel it, he couldn't move it at all. Panic took hold as the thought of an artery rupturing came to mind. Warm blood bubbled and pooled out from around the pole, staining the gaudy silver a muddy red and spilling out onto the floor. Another large hand gripped his other thigh and held it down, but this time the other pole was slowly pushed in. Somehow, that was worse.

 

Now Keith could hear metal scraping across the floor, metal that impaled his thighs. He was gonna be sick. At least his hands were still free, and he managed to twist himself to get most of his watery vomit on the ground and not on him. There barely anything in his stomach to even retch, and most of it was just watery yellow bile and acid. His breathing was erratic and it physically hurt, like needles being pointed right at his lungs, and every breath he took pierced and scratched them. No blood rushed to his head, but even then it felt like it was being pumped full of air.

 

He wiped his lips with the back of his wrist and stared up at Traluga and his minions towering over him. He didn't catch what Traluga ordered them, but they left and came back with a small black box carried between them, thick gel covered wires slung over their shoulders, almost like jumper cables.

 

No. He couldn't survive that, they--they wouldn't, right? Surely they were just...oh who was he kidding, of course they were gonna kill him. It didn't stop him from twisting around his torso as much as he could, scraping his fingers across the ground in a feeble effort to just get away from them.

 

“Now, why do you think crawling like a cub is going to get you anywhere?” Traluga mocked, stomping on Keith’s foot, and the sound of something popping filled his ears. Keith muffled his scream through his teeth.

 

“ _ Fuck you!”  _ Keith bit back at him, and the guards were now crouched down on either side of him, both with a T-bar. He didn't want to look, but he could still feel them, feel them as they stretched out his arms, and pressed the bars right where bone met the socket of his shoulder, and with a well-aimed fist they slammed it in, ripping away the flesh and sinew and dislocating his arms, rendering them useless, leaving him completely defenseless and at their mercy. His back hit the ground with a thud, his brain rattling in his head. Unlike his armour, he couldn't fight them off as they linked the metal poles up to the large clips of the wires that connected to the black box. The room was filled with a low whir as the box charged up.

 

As his legs were jerked by the chain into the middle of the room, Keith knew they had won. He stared blearily up at the ceiling, his vision blurred with his watery eyes, and a tightness in his throat.

 

“What do you know about Voltron that is of use to us?” Traluga asked once again.

 

Keith took in a shaky breath and closed his eyes.

 

“No.” he whispered.

 

Electricity was almost exactly how he thought it would be. Down to the sizzling of his nerves and to the slight smell of something burning. His jaw and vocal cords were completely locked as his body twisted and convulsed in ways he didn't know possible. But the pain, oh, that searing pain. It was blinding, white hot and gushing through his veins, boiling his blood. It only lasted for three seconds, but it felt like longer.

 

Ironically, when those volts left him, it was the best he’d felt in a while, nevermind the smell of burning flesh from his now useless shoulders and thighs. The smell of flesh popping and sizzling flooded his senses, hard to believe it was his. Hopefully the wounds were cauterized sort of. The tips of his hair was matted with blood and it was sticky between his thighs. Traluga crouched down again and locked his gaze with Keith, holding eye contact for a moment before spitting on him, getting him on the bridge of his nose just to add further to his humiliation.

 

“You going to say anything else?” Traluga pressured again. 

 

Keith wrinkled his lip, clearing his own throat and spitting right back at him. He’d regret it later, but for now he just didn't care anymore.

 

“Y-you know my answer.” Keith hissed, god, his voice itself sounded burnt. 

 

Traluga stepped away and barked something at the guards, and once again his senses were destroyed from the pain. Once again he was convulsing on the floor, drooling from the mouth as it felt like his organs themselves were liquefying. But it didn't stop after three seconds. No, it dragged on and on and on. Someone cried out, but it was muffled, and his vision cut out and hot blood spilled like water from his nose and ears.

 

~

 

_ “Any just why did you think it was a good idea!?  _ Alive,  _ goddamnit, they wanted him alive! I better not be shoving his brain back into his ears next time!”  _

 

_ “And why are you so concerned for the enemy!?” _

 

_ “ _ Information!  _ A rock knows more than you do!” _

 

Keith hadn't even opened his eyes yet and already he could hear arguing from behind the safe glass of the healing pod. Dried blood was crusted in lines down to his chin and it cracked and flaked when he twitched his lips, and there were spots of it that matted the hair next to his ears.

 

_ “Well, is he ready?” _

 

_ “Far from it, you let him bleed out with almost two minutes without oxygen and barely a heartbeat, but this’ll have to do.” _

 

_ “How much time then? We have a schedule.”  _

 

_ “How much time? This is--this is brain damage we’re talking about, fuck, he needs all the time in there as he can. Not much use to us if he’s completely mute now, is he?” _

 

They were speaking, but his head hurt and everything was slurred together, and it hurt his head even more if he concentrated on what they were saying, with it all frantic and muffled from the glass. Stupid glass.

 

_ “Th-then shove him in a pod on the next ship!” _

 

_ “We can’t do th-” _

 

The Galra speaking cut himself off as Keith leaned forwards, his forehead pressed against the glass and eyes staring at them blearily. Why were they staring at him like that? Not like he was an alien or...or what? Wait, what was going on?

 

_ “Okay, just tell them some rebels have postponed us, please, just get him back in th-” _

 

_ ~ _

 

Keith didn't wake up this time. Rather, a bag was shoved over his head and he was tied up, dragged by the ankles through the halls and shoved onto another pod or something or whatever. All he knew was that this was not where he last was.

 

Someone was dragging him through the ship by the ankles, his head scraping across the floor. His head didn't hurt as much this time, but he was completely and utterly exhausted. It only worsened when this time he realised he was completely naked. Was this a part of his torture and interrogation? This ship was a lot brighter, and the walls were silver instead of charcoal grey.  

The lights were still purple, but white light strips across the ceiling dominated them. The place smelt strongly of hospital detergent and the floors weren't metal, rather like the slippery linoleum of the Garrison floors. 

 

He opened his eyes.

 

The lights above seemed to blur out everything else from sight, but he did hear hurried footsteps despite his body being dragged slowly, occasionally heard someone gasp and the air was filled with hushed voices murmuring in shock. A few openly wept. Probably relieved that their dead family and friends were finally getting some sort of vengeance, he thought bitterly.

 

But what about his own family? The ones left at the Castle. Were they looking for him? Actually, if it involved them getting hurt or worse just to ease his suffering, it wouldn't be worth it. He couldn't imagine anyone; Pidge or Hunk or Lance or Shiro or Allura or Coran in the same position as him, no, because mark his words he would do this all over again if it meant that the Galra would not touch a single hair on their heads. He would sooner attempt to burn down the entire empire with just a gallon of gasoline and a single match than let the Galra go anywhere near their beautiful minds. Where is Red?

 

Keith felt his head loll to the side a bit and he caught the faces of many of the Galra lining the crowded hall, some were looking at him in disbelief and relief, some wore scowls on their beaten faces. Almost all of them were wearing casts and slings, many with scruffy fur and sickly faces, He deserved this, he kept telling himself.

 

They turned a sharp corner and some Galra personnel in uniform ushered the curious Galra away. Funny, they almost looked to be civilians instead of hardened soldiers. Keith was dragged in, a hand gripped around his ankle, and instead of being thrown in, he was rather laid down on the ground, the same Galra dragging him left for a moment then came back pulling an IV type stand, with the same tubes and pouches of liquid food and water tied up to it. The Galra was surprisingly gentle, instead of pinching his face with his claws, it was just gently tilted back. It was still uncomfortable as hell with the tubes being pushed up his nose, and they squirmed down his throat like they had a mind of their own. The Galra was even polite enough to murmur a quick warning that ‘it’ll hurt a little’ as he did.

 

Keith sat up with a wince from his stiff joints and crossed his legs, not caring that he was naked, and stared at the Galra curiously, watching the Galra scrunch up some plastic coverings in his hands and tidy up the IV stand. Then again, the Galra probably was doing this out of fear than an actual need to be hospitable. Keith was still thankful anyway, the last thing he needed was to be kicked in the ribs a few times.

 

The Galra must have known Keith was staring as he suddenly seemed very anxious, and he skittered away from Keith, leaving him in the bright room. 

 

It was bright and warm, but Keith never felt so cold.  

  
  


-

  
  


The next time a recording was sent over to the Castle, everyone was still sleeping. Or at least trying to.

 

Lance and Coran were up, and they just so happened to be alert enough to recognise a call invitation, immediately rushing off to get the others. When Lance and Coran banged pots and pans together in the hallway of the Paladins' rooms, he quickly realised that no-one, in-fact, had gotten much sleep. Shiro was doing press-ups on the floor of his room, partly because he was refusing to sleep and partly from all the added worry, while Pidge and Hunk were working out an algorithm to input quintessence coding onto their trackers in Pidge's room, sustained by coffee and anxiety alone. At the mention of another call from an unidentified source, they all stiffened. If it was anything like last time, would they even want to hear it? But the team's engineers had made good progress on working out a signal detector, and they would have to at least test it. 

 

The tracker was huge, almost as big as Pidge's lion, and was currently residing in a hangar pointing out from the bow of the Castle and aiming for space. Because humans were generally lazy, it could be remote controlled too.

 

“Okay, we just...if anyone needs to leave, please do. I know this is hard for us.” Shiro stated, folding his arms and looking down at the floor, as if his words were directed at himself.

 

Allura and Coran were hesitating at the control panels, but at a firm nod from everyone they allowed the call to come through.

 

Just like last time, the room darkened and a large screen took up most of the glass. The video crackled and fizzed before coming into focus, and it again looked like there was a piece of card in front of the camera, but a little bit from the top right corner was not obscured, but it showed barely a strip of grey.

 

_ “Look at you, can’t even feed yourself?”  _ A voice, the same voice from the last recording, spoke as if he was mocking someone. The sound of leather hitting flesh was followed by the sound of something heavy sprawling over the ground.  _ Keith. “Hope you’ve rested, because this one is a guaranteed shocker.” _

 

Chains rattling only sent everyone a feeling of unease. Keith was loud when it came to fighting and defending for himself or for others, and just how  _ quiet  _ he was put everyone on edge.

 

His silence was broken with a painful scream. 

 

Hunk visibly cringed at the sound of flesh tearing and bone breaking, gritting his teeth and feeling his skin crawl. Keith seemed to scream until he couldn't breathe, occasionally paused by broken sobs and whimpers. The chains jerked again and Keith's snivels and cries were the only sound in the room.

 

_ “Now, why do you think crawling like a cub is going to get you anywhere?”  _ The torturer mocked, and they could just hear Keith's grunts, groans and whimpers as he somehow tried to get away, not very successfully by the sounds of it. Bone snapped and more screaming followed.

 

_ “Fuck you!”  _ They heard Keith hiss back at him. God, he sounded so broken, so scared and yet so spiteful, it tugged at Hunk's heartstrings in a way, and he wanted nothing more than to get Keith out of there.

 

_ “What do you know about Voltron that is of use to us?”  _ The Galra they assumed to be h is torturer growled.

 

_ “No.”   _ Was all Keith could choke back.

 

The low hum of electricity filled the room and everyone flinched. Lance held onto Hunk's arm as if his life depended on it and buried his face into his shoulder, Pidge was blocking her ears, Shiro was blinking back tears and Allura and Coran were braving through it with determined looks on their faces.

 

“Hunk, Pidge, activate the tracker.” Allura commanded, snapping her gaze to them. 

 

Hunk nodded and he fumbled around with the remote, him and Pidge tampering with a frequency, before a green light flickered on the metal tablet and they firmly nodded at Allura. The room hummed and vibrated, enough to make everyone shift their stance.

 

“Hold on!” Coran called out, gripping onto the control panel with Allura. The room was bare, so Hunk dropped onto the ground with the others all anchoring onto him for support.

 

The room pulsed and a low growl filled the air as the tracker blasted a pulse of pure white energy straight into the sea of stars before them, rippling and pulsing in waves, rattling and quaking the room. Hunk gripped the tablet just to give his hands something to do, and he squeezed his eyes shut, silently praying that this would work. This couldn't all be for nothing after all. It couldn't  _ afford  _ to not be all for nothing. If it was any chance at bringing Keith home, they had to try.

 

The recording was drained out by the growl in the air, and they didn't even realise that it ended ages ago, with their eyes trained on the white beam and Allura and Coran furiously searching through the signals and quintessence codes found on the way, their fingers becoming a blur and their glowing eyes darting back and forth along the screens.

 

The white pulse flickered a few times, before it faltered and gradually faded from the sky, taking the growl in the room along with it. Hunk felt everyone at his sides and back relax a little.

 

“Coran? Allura? Found anythin’?” Lance asked, still hugging onto Hunk’s arm.

 

Allura had her brow furrowed to the point where a small wrinkle creased the skin, she chewed on her lip as she read through the codes and signals, and the room froze when her mouth fell open and she took a few steps back, looking nothing short of relieved, a wide smile growing on her face.

 

“Yes...yes, we found something!” She sighed, deeply exhaling and tilting her head back as she laughed, joyous and full that they finally, finally found something. 

  
After so long, they finally had a lead. And they would stop at nothing, absolutely  _ nothing,  _ to bring him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I also want to thank you all your comments! They honestly are what helped me churn out this chapter so fast. The next one probably wont be as fast sorry, but I have started on it! please tell me ways and areas to improve on, and I really love kudos and feedback! (Next chapter may have a brief non-con scene, but I will post Trigger Warnings)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is still out there, but a new ally may help in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE UPDATED TAGS. This is the only chapter with sexual assault explicitly shown, and for those who don't want to read it I will post a chapter summary at the end notes.
> 
> Trigger warnings for sexual assault and rape

Without a healing pod in the room, Keith had a gut feeling that something was slightly different about this sort of place. For one thing, the place smelt strongly of detergent, and reminded him of a bleak white and blue hospital back on Earth. It was also significantly brighter than the other two ships he was held on, down to the strips of white light across the ceiling and the glossy glint it left on the polished blue floor. Also the Galra he saw on the way in, instead of holding themselves straight and in violet armour, they were sickly and many had bandages and slings on their bodies. This was definitely a hospital ship. Maybe his next round of interrogation was something similar to what Haggar showed him? Guilt trip him into giving up information? Either that, or they purposely wanted him to bleed out and die. He twirled the cord of a tube, one feeding him a soupy yellow-brown mixture, around his finger out of boredom. It had been...forty five minutes? An hour? Something along the lines of that anyway. No-one had come in or anything, which was unusual, considering that the last few times he was taken almost immediately. He stared up at the ceiling, lying on his scarred back and counting the lines in the ceiling. Counting the marks on his skin got boring. The Altean pods usually healed wounds without a single scar left, but this one left him with criss-cross patterns on his back and large bumpy scars on his thighs and abdomen. The ones on his thighs were like pale pink snakes, wavy and long, about the length of his hand and bumpy and raised. The ones on his shoulders he found it hard to see, but he could feel them with the tips of his fingers, and they felt no different. Occasionally a ringing would drum itself into his right ear, and according to what his previous handlers (god, he hated that word)  were saying, it didn't sound pretty at all. He shuddered at thinking just how close he had come to actually never coming back. Brain damage was serious, and they said that it was almost dribbling out his ears. Whatever they charged that pod up with must have majorly cost them to heal something like that.

 

Light flooded in through the door and five pairs of footsteps entered. At once, a shot of adrenaline pulsed through him and Keith scrambled to the wall, but he didn't get that far as his tubes tugged him back painfully. Keith winced and held his swollen nose.

 

The Galra entering this time looked to be soldiers, in armour and visors that covered their eyes, but they flanked an anxious looking doctor or nurse, in a pale lavender uniform. A woman? Keith had never seen a Galra woman before. She was tall of course, around eight foot, and had a plain silver ring on her middle finger. Her hips were wide and so were her shoulders, muscular and firm, and her claws were painted a sky blue, slightly chipped. Fine lines made little spider's webs at the corners of her gold eyes and laugh lines around her mouth. In her claws, she held a couple of sterile looking bags, filled with syringes, tools and disinfectant pads.

 

“Do your work, nurse.” One of the soldiers gruffly stated and pushed her forwards. She probably would have bit back, but she looked so terrified like that, and she would probably face repercussions for disobeying orders.

 

The soldiers all positioned themselves around the room and watched on, their eyes hidden from their tinted visors. The Galra nurse shivered and looked down at Keith. If anything, he should be more scared of her, considering that he was backed up against the wall of the room and she was towering above him. With her legs shaking, she crouched down in front of him, opening a bag and pulling out a pair of scissors.

 

“Wh-what's that for?” Keith gulped, staring at the shiny sharp tool in her hand.

 

Her head snapped up and she looked him once over.

 

“Hair, I-I need a hair sample.” She stated, her voice shaky and strained, but soft and quiet.

 

That was it? Seemed simple enough. Keith ran a hand through his greasy hair, taking a lock the width of a pencil and pulling it out towards her, bowing his head a little. She hesitated but snipped it off, storing it in a plastic bag and sealing it shut. Everything she did was delicate and precise, like her fingers were made for creating the most finest and delicate of things than for cutting hair.

 

“What's your name?” Keith asked. She blinked and glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers.

 

“Bolormaa.” She whispered back. Bolormaa tucked the sample in a pocket in the apron of her uniform. “I need a blood sample too.”

 

She was being gentle, and Keith had no reason to not comply. He held out his left wrist and tilted it back, so the colour-rich veins flashed through the translucent skin. Bolormaa gingerly held it, his hand looking tiny in her own, took one look at it and sighed.

 

“I'm sorry, which vein? I've never...done this on your species before.” Bolormaa shook her head.

 

Oh yeah. _That._ Keith pointed to a teal coloured vein right under the paper-thin skin. He couldn't remember much from the health classes back at the Garrison, but he just went with his gut here.

 

“This one, that should do it.” He explained. She nodded and ghosted her thumb over the vein, sighing at how fragile his skin must be to her, but she ripped open a disinfectant wipe and gently wiped the skin clean before taking a syringe and pressing the nub to it. Her skin felt leathery, and she had pads on her fingers like a cat's paw.

 

“It will hurt, but just a prick. Hold still please.” Bolormaa warned, giving him two ticks to get ready before a short needle slid into his vein as easily as a knife gliding through butter. It was interesting, watching crimson blood slowly fill the tube. It was in Galran, so he couldn't read it, but it had to be at least three centimetres of blood from his judgement. Once she deemed it full enough, she slowly retracted it, a small bead of blood seeping out from the miniscule wound, and she wiped it with the disinfectant before storing the syringe in another locked bag. “Thank you, your name?”

 

She pulled out a pen and seemed to be marking them.

 

“Keith.” Was all he said. It surprised him at how much she stiffened before she marked his name down in the appropriate Galran lettering.

 

“Thank you for your patience. I may see you again.” Bolormaa said, but her voice wavered a little, and she was ushered out of the room by the soldiers, casting another look over her shoulder as she did so.

 

Why was she acting like that? Was Keith a Galran name as well? Weird, he knew his name was common on Earth, why would it be this far away as well? He shoved the thought out of his head, she probably knew someone with the name as well, couldn't be that much of a coincidence. Why did she need those samples? Probably related to 'exploiting his greatest weakness' or some shit like that. The door shut again, leaving him with two of the soldiers.

 

With their eyes all trained on him like that, and with him being particularly vulnerable right now, it made shivers crawl up and down his back.  

 

One of the soldiers had the nerve to snicker at him, elbowing the other soldier next to him, murmuring something that made them laugh. Keith scowled and wrinkled his nose.

 

“Y'know I can hear you, right?” Keith snapped, and the empty room echoed a little bit.

 

The guards jumped a little at his outburst and they both looked over at him. Keith changed his position, bringing up a knee and resting his elbow on it with his other hand supporting his weight.

 

“What are y'sayin'? Care to share?” Keith mocked back, and at their dumbfounded silence, Keith smiled to himself. One point to Keith.

 

No points to Keith, bad move.

 

One of the soldiers laughed, loud and hearty.

 

“Your species looks ridiculous! No fur, straggly hair, soft and white--are you male or female?”

 

Keith narrowed his eyes at them. Their sense of humour was terrible, even Lance’s dick jokes seemed like comedy gold here.

 

Though they were right about ‘straggly hair’. Keith was always hairy, having a Galra mother and a Korean father. And genetics gave him the whole works: hairy arms and legs, fuzz on his tum and chest, and stubborn patches of stubble that he shaved religiously, and with the amount of time away from the castle, he wouldn't be surprised if he grew a few long hairs on his lip and jaw.

 

“Hey! We’re talkin’ to ya! Male or female? Make a choice.” The soldier mocked again.

 

“Male.” Keith muttered back.

 

“If that’s what Earth men are like, it should be an easy planet to add to the Emperor's collection.”

 

Not Earth. _Definitely_ not Earth. Over his dead body. Keith snarled and tried to leap into a fighting stance, only for the chains around his feet to tighten and force him to topple over onto his front. More howls filled the room. Their patronizing howls only cemented how useless fighting back was. Keith sighed and closed his eyes, check smushed against the floor, blocking out their insults and hoots.

 

Not long after that, the door opened again and his wrists were chained and bound. His wrists were cuffed behind his back and his feet were cuffed at the ankles.

 

Keith still kept his eyes closed, but a sharp kick to the ribs made them snap open. The room now contained five soldiers, all of them looming over him, one was holding a stack of pale green strips with a pair of white gloves. Paper? Membrane? Something Keith would prefer to not know about?

 

“What's that?” Keith asked, looking at up at them out of the corner of his eye. For all he knew they could be like nicotine patches, but instead of nicotine, with arsenic.

 

“Keep 'im on his front.” A soldier growled, who by the way he held himself, must have been their one in command.

 

His soldiers obliged and crouched down, Keith struggled to resist but nothing much could be done with his arms and legs bound and a large clawed hand pressing his face to the ground, fingers threading through his greasy hair.

 

Keith grit his teeth and tried to look at what they were doing, but with a hand obscuring most of his vision, it was hard to tell, only another soldier was crouched down and another was behind him. Instincts must have kicked in right there that something was horribly wrong and Keith put as much effort as he could into lashing out, twisted himself and tried to kick at the soldier behind him, he hit something, but it was weak and feeble, barely enough to really hurt a child.

 

He completely froze as one of those green strips was pressed down onto his shoulder blade. Keith grit his teeth and held his breath, for his skin had to start popping and sizzling soon.

 

It never did. In fact, it wasn't really doing anything. It was sticky like honey, and it was cool, like it was covered in a sort of gel.

 

Nope, it was bad alright.

 

It was ripped from his back, and it felt like a layer of skin was being ripped off with it. It wasn't like the pure agony of the whip or the electricity, but it hurt nevertheless. Could you become used to pain?

 

Another was pressed onto his skin, on his other shoulder blade, and it was set for a few ticks before being ripped off again. It hurt a little less this time, but it still stung like a bee's sting. Another one. Another one. Eventually his whole back was covered, and the soldiers took turns as ripping them off. What was the purpose of this?

 

They stood over the line though when they pressed the strips to the backs of his thighs.

 

“Hey! Stop that!” Keith spat at them, and tried to wriggled away, but the soldiers only pushed him down harder into the floor. Keith heaved a heavy breath and curled his hands into fists, once again digging his nails into the calloused palms of his hands and grinding his teeth.

 

It was humiliating, having those hands all over him. If only Red was here to help him--what was taking her so long to reach out for him?

 

Those hands--they touched and they grabbed and they groped, and Keith hated every second of it, even more that he couldn't fight back and for once he never felt so helpless.

 

The strips were sealed to his legs, them ripped up again, where there was once thick dark hair was now raw skin. He felt like a baby in water, helpless and bare. A hand ran down from his shoulders, sending trembles down his spine and turning his blood to ice, like it was checking for something.

 

“Like a newborn cub.” The soldier with his hand down his back stated. Keith couldn't see what they looked like, what his back and legs looked like or what they were doing, but claws dug into his armpits and heaved him back. Keith yelled at his body being bent back, with his legs caught under him, but they threw him across the ground, and his shoulders caught the brunt of it. His back felt like it was lit aflame and his shoulders were grazed right on the bone. Keith shakily exhaled, blinking back tears as a tightness wrapped around his throat. He didn't want this. But what was more important, him or the universe? One life or trillions?

 

The soldiers loomed over him again, and two stood on his hands and arms while the other two soldiers pressed the green gel strips down onto his torso. Across the hair on his chest, on his armpits and arms and face and abdomen. At least they deemed that his eyebrows and the hair on his head was okay, but the stubble on his lip and jaw needed to go. The gel strip tore a layer off his lips as well and they bled a little, the copper taste was now all too familiar.

 

“'Ow about here as well?” One of the soldiers suggested and looked down at Keith, with only what could be called malice in his eyes. Keith wanted to cry.

 

The other soldiers all basically hooted _'do it!' 'Make 'im squirm!'_ and Keith was given no choice but to take it. One of the soldiers made a move to spread his thighs a little.

 

 _“Stop it!”_ Keith sobbed out at them, clenching his thighs together and gripping his fists, curling up into himself. Too far, too far, much too far.

 

“Then tell us, where is Voltron or the Castle currently located? What are your weaknesses? What planets are in your little Voltron Alliance?” The commander grilled. “Tell us the truth!”

 

“I-I don't _know_ th' truth!” Keith wailed at them, shifting away from them and cowering into the corner of the room, because if there was  God above, Keith was praying that they'd stop.

 

The commander gave him a look full of poison before barking something at his soldiers, something that made them brighten up, but Keith couldn't hear from his heartbeat in his ears and couldn't see from the tears clouding his eyes, chewing the inside of his cheek. He was jolted back when something was shoved into his mouth, a ball of rags? A wide damp handkerchief was also tightly tied around his head, right under his nose.

 

A punch to his nose made him blackout for a moment, head whipping back as blood started to pool and he couldn't breathe. The warm blood was in his mouth and throat and Keith just so badly wanted to die.

 

“Last chance, _Paladin_.” the commander growled at him through his teeth, spraying spit in his face, digging his fingers into his face to pull out the rags and binds.

 

“I-I told you--I just don't know.” Keith’s voice was small and tight, but to be honest, he couldn't really care anymore. The commander sneered and shoved the gag back into his mouth, retightening the fabric over his face to the point where it hurt a little and the knot dug into the back of his head.

 

The commander stood back and watched him emotionlessly with his arms crossed over his chest, watching his soldiers grab and grope at him again, one bent his legs up, while another got behind him to grip his sides, and spread his thighs, sticking a particularly gelled strip on his pubic hair. This time Keith let the tears spill, no, he couldn't take this, anything _anything_ but this. To rub some salt in the wound, it was not only humiliating, but if any of the skin down there were to rip then he'd be done for.

 

The soldiers actually had the audacity to laugh at him squirm and scream behind his gags and chains as they quickly ripped it off. Keith couldn't bare to look down, so he turned his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut and grinded his teeth, trying desperately to think of something, anything, better than this. Another two were pressed to him. Keith winced and tensed as the strips were torn off him, taking a small layer of skin and hair, until he was completely hairless in front of them, trembling and tense. The strips were simply cast to the side of the room like garbage. Claws dug into his thighs, enough to weep blood, and he let himself sob quietly behind his binds.

 

He just wanted to curl up into a ball. He didn't want this. He wanted Red. He wanted his family. He wanted the Castle. If he could, he would beg for Red to come and take him home, just take him anywhere but here, but without her soothing and comforting presence in the back of his mind he felt trapped.

  


-

  


Everything was in place: an approximate location of Keith's ship, unfortunately nothing of Red, but she was probably still at Zarkon's home base, and with them the way they were, a direct attack on Zarkon's home base would be too risky. One thing that worried them was just how weak the track was, either Keith had already left that ship (if Lance's prediction was correct) or he was dying, and they just begged that it was not the latter.

 

Everyone was tense going into this rescue, but their determination was twice as strong. So far, everything was going as planned, Shiro and Pidge were infiltrating the command and upper deck of the ship to hold off the sentries and Galra soldiers aways from the prison cells, whereas Lance and Hunk were the ones to actually do the deed of breaking into every single cell. Hundreds and hundreds of cells.

 

 _“Hunk! Lance! On your left!”_ Pidge cried out into the comms, heavy gunfire in the background.

 

“On it!” Lance yelled back, panting and running all the while with pain searing his calf. Hunk was a step behind, firing a flurry of bullets into the prison locks, destroying the mechanisms and the doors all jutting open.

 

Lance steadied his trigger finger and took aim at the last lock to his left. Keith had to be behind there, he just had to be. A bright blue blast of plasma disintegrated the lock and the door gutted open. Already from here, he could smell something rancid and it made his stomach flip.

 

“Keith!? Are y-" Lance cut himself off as his vision sharpened. The cell was empty, but the smell, oh god the smell. It smelt of blood, sweat and urine, and he yelped as he realised he was standing on dried bloodstains. No, no, nonononono-

 

It was _Keith's._ The quintessence scanner only brought back a weak signal, meaning either he was dying or something of him was left behind. And it was dried out on the metal floor in front of him.

 

“Lance! Is he in th-" Hunk panted as he ran up next to Lance, sweat coating his brow, stopping dead in his tracks at Lance's face. Lance looked like he'd just seen a ghost and was about to throw up.

 

“Oh jeez, this is bad. Lance, this is _really_ bad.” Hunk stammered, flinching away from the bloodstained floor.

 

 _“Lance, Hunk, come in--is he there?”_ Shiro grunted from his side of the comms.

 

“Well, he was. Emphasis on was.” Lance talked back, since Hunk looked even more disgusted and spooked than he did.

 

 _“What do you mean--show us what you see!”_ This time is was Pidge. _“There should be a camera, a button on the left side of the jaw?”_

 

Lance looked over to Hunk, who was already pressing his finger to the lip of his helmet and looking down at the bloodstains. Thanks to the ship's engineers, now if there was a particularly tricky situation, vision from the visors of the helmets could be broadcasted to the others and the castle. They didn't even bother to clean up the room, sort of like they were keeping it intact as some sort of twisted trophy.

 

They could almost feel the chill that ran through everyone at the sight of their friend's blood splattered on the ground, however old it was, it was a sight that none of them would be forgetting anytime soon. For Lance and Hunk, it really sunk in just how serious this situation was. Keith could be dying, hell, he could be anywhere. This Galra ship needed a wormhole to get to, so he could be literally anywhere across the universe.

 

 _“Get out of there, he's not here anymore.”_ Allura commanded, the disappointment heavy in her voice. Everyone felt their spirits dampen a little, but what else was there to do? They had prisoners to free, if they were going to free Keith, then they were going to save a thousand more while they were at it.

  


~

  


There was no point hiding just how guttered everyone was, but at least many prisoners were saved and heading off to their home planets, and it confirmed Lance's theory about him being moved from ship to ship and being kept on the ships they would suspect. That cleared two things out of the way and narrowed their options.

 

The paladins, Allura and Coran were currently moping about the kitchen, theorising over half empty bowls of food goo and Shiro was even taking to downing a few shots of numville, since it had a weak alcohol-like effect.

 

“This is depressing, we gotta do more.” Pidge sighed, tapping away at her laptop. “I've already lost my family, I don't wanna have to add another one to th' list.”

 

Pidge was looking worse for the wear, bags under her eyes and her shoulders slumped, hair tied back with a rubber band.

 

“If we're gonna have to get our Laika back, we have to at least rest up a lil' bit first.” Shiro commented, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.

 

Allura and Coran raised their eyebrows at the mention of Laika.

 

“Who is this Laika? Do they remind you of Keith?” Coran asked, sighing and folding his arms, leaning forwards onto the table. Allura also had bags under her eyes, and her hair was messy and her face looked hollow.

 

“Laika?” Lance imputed. “Almost everyone on Earth knows the story, of the dog who went up to space an' never returned. It's funny, she died over fifty years ago, but some stay she still wants to come home. I mean, if I was her, I'd want to be back home too. She...she died up there all alone.” Lance explained somberly, weakly snorting and staring down at an empty glass he was tilting with his fingertips. “I guess Laika still wants to go home.”

 

Hunk hooked an arm around Lance's shoulders and pulled him closer, like a mother would to an upset child. Lance was also feeling the effects of Keith's absence, sure they didn't always see eye to eye, but there was no denying the two had become firm and loyal friends since Voltron brought them together. Voltron had brought them all so much closer, and it really put their lives into perspective, because in this terrifying and exciting world, all you have are the connections you make and the lives you touch. And especially in their situation, you end up treasuring those the most.

 

“No. Laika _is_ coming home.” Allura said, making herself clear, her face firm and determined. “We'll get him back, even if it's just a body, we'll bring him back.”

 

She sighed deeply and turned for the door, but coincidence had it that a loud trill sounded over the intercoms. Yet another call invitation from their anonymous admirers. Everyone had a weariness in their bones, knowing that none of them were going to enjoy this, but for the good of finding a signal while the sources' waves were being broadcast, they had to. None of them would admit it, but it was also just to figure out if he was still alive or not.

 

The main room darkened, and the screen flooded the room with bright light, exposing a white roof for a few seconds before being covered again. The main room was so quiet if you listened closely you could hear their anxious heartbeats.

 

Something sounded off. There were no screams, or the usual sounds that came with his previous tortures. After a moment the sound came on, and harsh breathing and sobbing muffled by something took up the room, punctuated by a...wet sound.

 

Hunk looked around the room. It was met with confusion at first, but it seemed to sink after a few seconds.

 

The sound of fabric being pulled only unmasked the sounds: and everyone would be hearing those choked sobs and screams in their sleep. They were all broken up with each sweaty grunt, helpless and frantic and terrified. Skin slapped skin with a wet sound that made everyone cringe.

 

 _“Where are--the other paladins? Where is th' Castle--headed to? How did Voltron--survive another--quintessence attack?”_ Whoever was violating him grunted, his sentence marred with sweaty grunts and growls.

 

 _“I-I don't know, p-please I--I'm tellin' th' truth!”_ Keith begged, his voice cracked and wavering, they heard a heavy gulp followed by a strained cry. _“I-I don't---know.”_

 

The sound of skin stopped and all they could hear was Keith's laboured breathing and sobs.

 

 _“You lil' bitch.”_ The assumed Galra spat, and Keith's cries went up a notch as the sound was a lot faster, sort of like a jackhammer and it made Lance freeze to the spot. _“Speak the truth!”_

 

 _“I don't_ know _the truth!”_ Keith screamed, and Lance, and he was sure the others too, just wanted to murder whoever was doing this to him. He sounded so broken, so weak, and Lance felt filthy just listening to it all helplessly. The Galra stopped again. _“I said...I d-don't know th-the truth.”_

 

Lance looked over at the others, Allura and Coran looked horrified but they soldiered on with going through the codes picked up by the tracker. Lance almost wished that the tracker was louder. Hunk had his hands cupped over Pidge's ears, who pushed his hands down further, and Shiro...Lance couldn't tell.

 

 _“You ignorant little whore, look at ya, y'might as well be enjoyin' this with how damn_ persistent _you are.”_  The Galra growled, and the wet sound was followed by a loud slap, judging from the sound of it, it was to the side of his face. _“Pathetic, Yertek, your tur-"_

 

_Bang_

 

The broadcast was cut off suddenly with a loud crash, and everyone jolted up at that, for Shiro was standing right between Allura and Coran, Galra arm activated and glowing bright violet, with his hand sliced right through a section of the control panel. His grey eyes were blown wide, and his jaw trembled, to be honest they had never seen him look so terrified ever before. At everyone looking at him in shock, his head jerked up.

 

“No. I-I couldn't let you…” He started, but his mouth struggled to form words.

 

What else was there to say? They all heard it, they all knew it, but it didn't mean they wanted to.

 

“Shiro? It's okay, y-”

 

“Hunk, thank you, but it's not. I'm s-sorry, but I can't let you hear--I just couldn't.” Shiro finished in a defeated tone. He shuddered and pulled his arm out of the console, sparks and wires flickering and sparking around him, falling to his knees and burying his face in his hands. No-one knew what to do as they saw the faint hiccup of his back, sobbing with his face in his hands. They'd never seen Shiro cry before, but they couldn't possibly blame him for this. Allura crouched down next to him and hooked her arms over his shoulders, drawing him into a warm hug and letting him sob into her shoulder.

 

They learnt a lot about Shiro's time in captivity that hour, and just how fucked Keith really was.

 

That, and they had another quintessence track, one that was a bit too close for home. They weren't going to destroy a civilian hospital ship now, were they?

  


-

  


Keith wasn't sure how long it had been since the soldiers left the room, leaving him with the gag and binds over his mouth and his hands chained behind his back, naked at the end of the room. Keith had done crying his eyes out, now they were just red and puffy, and the fabric that went partway up his cheeks was dampened slightly. One eye however, he could barely see out of it was so swollen. They really must have done a number on him, right? His sweaty bangs formed a dark curtain over his eyes, and his breathing was shaky, but thank god they weren't here anymore. His thighs and the ground underneath him still felt sticky, with blood and other fluids he didn't even want to mention. The gashes in his thighs were at least starting to scab over and the bruises on his hips still stung. He could really go for a drink right about now. And something to eat. When was the last time he even ate real solid food?

 

He didn't even bother lifting his head up when the door opened again with a faint swoosh, or the horrified cry from the nurse that aided him last time, accompanied by the faint drop of fabric on the floor. The door closed again, cutting off the flood of light, and the nurse at once rushed over to him. What was her name again? Belinda? Balora? Bolormaa?

 

“Goddess, what have they _done_ to you?” She fretted and knelt down in front of him and carefully pulled down the binds from around his face, pulling out the gag. She cupped his face and made him look up at her. Her hands were huge and warm, and the pads felt rough against his skin, but she looked at him with...concern? “Oh Goddess, what have they done?”

 

Keith stared up into her golden eyes, his own bleary and glassy, but his vision was hindered with the swelling and the tears. Why was she being so nice? He was the enemy, hell, he'd probably already killed some of her family and friends. He didn't deserve her kindness. Keith looked down at what she was holding: more of those pouches that did the bare minimum to keep him alive and what looked like a folded up shirt, a dark purple that he had become to associate with the Galra. Bolormaa must have seen him looking at it, as she pulled a key from the pocket on her uniform and pulled him closer to her in an awkward hug, managing to unlock the chains from around his wrists. God, it felt so good to just bend his stiff joints after what felt like hours. She pulled away from him, and he missed it. She was warm, and she completely encompassed him, and ironic as it was he felt completely safe and sound in her arms. Her strong arms. The shirt was pulled over his head, and he wasn't useless enough to not push his arms through. The shirt was of course too large for him, and the neckhole drooped off his shoulder, the loose sleeves reaching his elbows and the hem dropping to just below the middle of his thigh. It felt similar to cotton, and it was not much, but it was a great deal warmer.

 

Keith sniffed and looked away at his wrists, red and with the imprint of chains around them. “Why--why're you so...nice to me?” He croaked.

 

Bolormaa gave him a sympathetic look and glanced over her shoulder even though she didn't need to. They were the only ones in the room after all. She leaned down and whispered into his ear. “You're part Galra.”

 

Even though Keith knew he was part Galra, thanks to the Trials of Marmora, it still sent a shiver down his spine. Wait...what if she was part of--no, wait. Could she?

 

“And are you from th' blade?” He whispered back, barely a breath. This time she pulled him into a hug.

 

“Yes.”

 

It was barely there, but he caught it. That one word made him feel just so relieved. Guess he wasn't as hopeless as he thought.

 

“Now, you have to listen to me,” She started and gulped, “you are going to be boarded upon another ship in less than a vaga, this time it's three galaxies north of here in the Ragoa Galaxy. I have sent out coordinates to the Blade, they and Voltron will find you there or here if they're fast enough.” Keith let out a sigh of relief, finally, he was going home. “Voltron has been looking for you, but they have found nothing yet. Thank the stars you came here instead of somewhere else.”

 

“Wh-what've they been doin'?”

 

“They've boarded a ship, freed some prisoners, but they couldn't find you. They will be boarding this ship as soon as possible.” She explained, which also explained the rush to get him out.

 

Keith pulled away and furrowed his brow. This was a civilian _hospital_ ship. They wouldn't just bomb it for his sake now, would they? If they did...then everything the Galra were taunting him about being a soulless murderer made a lot more sense. No. They could not destroy this ship. It didn't matter that the Galra were their sworn enemy, there was a thick line between a battlefield and a hospital. These are _innocents_ they were talking about. Families, children, babies being born...they were all on this ship. Destroying this ship would mean destroying all of that, bringing heartbreak and unneeded grief. Destroying a fleet in a battlefield was one thing, bombing a civilian hospital was another.

 

“Then why're they still comin' here?” Keith asked, getting suspicious.

 

She chewed the inside of her cheek and exhaled softly. “Trust me, they know this is a civilian ship, they'll try not to hurt anyone.” She reassured.

 

Keith didn't trust that. He still remembered when Allura had sacrificed herself for Shiro, how getting her back was one of their most ugliest battles. This would not be a clean fight. Then again, there was no such thing as a good war.

 

Bolormaa sensed his silence and picked up the tubes.

 

“You won't be eating for a while, best to do it now.” She murmured back, giving him a moment to ready himself before the tubes were snaked up his nose and down his throat, doing that weird wriggle that gave him a feeling that they had a mind of their own.

 

“Thank you.” Keith breathed back at her. She smiled and gave him one last hug.

 

“I hope to see you again.” She murmured with a heavy exhale. “You remind me of your father.”

 

Keith felt his heart drop and Bolormaa quickly pulled away and took fleeting steps towards the door, he thought he heard her sniff again but he couldn't tell as the door was closing, leaving him once again alone in the room.

 

Keith curled up into a tight ball and wept again.

 

-

 

“No. I'm sorry but I gotta draw a line here--this is barbaric. Sorry, not sorry.” Hunk stated with an air of finality. “We gotta remember, these are people too. Look, guys, I really really don't wanna look like I'm sidin' with the bad guys, but we're the bad guys here.”

 

Hunk had a point. It would make them no better than the Galra to just bomb a civilian hospital ship. Man, these guys were good at weeding them out.

 

“Look, I love my family, an' Keith is my family too...and I--I want to get this over with, but I don't wanna be killin' other families too.” Pidge voiced her opinion, fidgeting with her glasses and standing up a little straighter.  

 

The discussion of the hospital ship was tearing them apart, half of them voicing that to bring harm to a civilian hospital ship was a low blow, and those saying that it's the enemy, and they've got Keith who is of course going through a rough time to say the least. Lance got up from the table and pressed his palms flat against the surface.

 

“Look, why don't we just cooperate with th' enemy. We've got th' Blade of Marmora helpin' us out on this too, right? And they haven't got him _or_ his coordinates yet. How 'bout we just settle this in a 'diplomatic' way: we ask them to hand him over, or we destroy the ship. And the Galra wouldn't stoop that low would they?” Lance suggested. Lance knew that him and Coran were hoping for a more diplomatic way, but even then, could they trust them?

 

Hunk and Shiro looked at each other and nodded. “A compromise? We go there, threaten them with our lions all they want, until they hand over Keith.”

 

They weren't working with much, but it was the most plausible option. It wasn't the best option, but what choice did they have?

 

~

 

It took a wormhole to get there.

 

Lance and Hunk were to be the ones to actually enter the ship if need be, while Pidge and Shiro kept their gaze on the hospital ship.

 

Lance gulped and gripped Blue's levers a little harder. What would they find? Keith was in a terrible place, what if it was just a body pick up? What if there was barely anything left of him because he was just too stubborn and yet so loyal. What if Keith never made it back to Earth? Blue silenced his thoughts with a comforting purr, a soothing sound that rumbled in the back of his mind.

 

 _“What's wrong, my cub?”_ She seemed to say.

 

Lance chewed on his lip anxiously and switched off the comms for now. “Blue, I'm scared.”

 

He could feel her presence, wrapping around his mind like a mother lioness to a cub. _“Would you like to talk about it?”_

 

Lance tilted his head back and closed his eyes, focusing on her, and his thoughts drifted to ones of safety and security, soft ocean blue fur against him and warmth encompassing him.

 

“I-I'm scared...I just keep thinkin'--what if he isn't there? I mean, of course he should be, why wouldn't he be? I mean, c'mon this is Keith we're talkin' about, he should be fine, right? I mean, he's got to be...” Lance started, but he faltered off mid-sentence.

 

 _“Hush, little one, I understand you're worried for him, I am too, but you need to be strong if you're going to help save him.”_ She comforted back. _“It's okay to be scared, we're all scared, but you have to control it, for us and for him--I know you can do that.”_

 

Blue was right. Lance was just getting ahead of himself and thinking of every worse possibility. There might not even be a second room with a bloodstained floor, the next might be filled with ashes or dust or...maybe it was filled with nothing.

 

 _“My cub, you can do great things, I chose you and I love you for a reason, and now is the time to be strong, you can do that. Little one, be strong.”_ Blue whispered to him, sending him one more wave of love and warmth before she faded from his visions like a ghost.

 

Her warm presence was still in the back of his mind. She would never be gone, not really. Lance turned the comm back on, the low hum and shuffle of background noise filling his ears.

 

“Hunk? You okay?” Lance asked, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his seat was he waited for an answer.

 

 _“I'm nervous an' I'm happy, is that even a thing? It is, right?”_ Hunk babbled back, clearly on edge.

 

“Hunk? Buddy? We're gonna be alright, trust me.” Lance tried his best to comfort his friend, just as Blue did. “You trust me, right?”

 

 _“Y-yeah, bro, you know that. I trust you more than anyone else in th' world.”_ Hunk laughed back nervously. _“Hey, you remember th' time back in the Garrison where we sneaked out for a night? An' we hotwired that Toyota? How we said we're gonna go pick up a bunch a' chicks but we went for pizza by the water instead?”_

 

The memory made Lance smile. Their first year of being as a team back at the Garrison, and Lance had insisted it was a good 'team bonding' exercise. Well, he wasn't wrong. What was gonna be a night of girls and alcohol turned into five dollar pizza and cheap beer by a lake at midnight, with the city lights that casted that beautiful white and pink glow on the water, how their feet were wet and the sand was everywhere, it was dark but they were just so _happy._ Lance is sure it was that moment exactly he knew him and Hunk were tight for life.

 

“How could I forget?” Lance smiled and chuckled lightly. “How about when we go back to Earth we do it all again, but this time with everyone else, eh?”

 

Hunk laughed heartily at the other end of the comm. _“Yeah man, that'll be cool...hey, you think Allura and Coran had some sort of Altean pizza?”_

 

Lance snorted back. “Ask them yourself. Just throw all that numville in the lake, alright?”

 

Around five minutes in comfortable silence later, they reached the ship. It wasn't like other Galra ships, this one was completely and utterly defenceless, and it was larger, almost double the size of a hospital back on Earth. It was a silver and purple colour with just one ship docking bay at the top and the thrusters on it were as large as one of their Lions. Many windows dotted the sides and shone with warm light, appearing brightly lit compared to the other Galra ships.

 

It still wouldn't stand a chance against the Lions.

 

Lance gulped and tried to read into their frequency, finding a signal and tapping into it with Hunk. Lance brought his lion around next to Hunk's at the bow of the ship.

 

“This is the Blue Paladin of Voltron speaking. We believe you have the Red Paladin on this ship.”

 

It was straight to the point. Lance and Hunk both anxiously waited for a reply. Panicked voices chattered away on the line.

 

_“This is the Yellow Paladin comin' in, we just want the Red Paladin. If you free him, we won't shoot, but we ask for your trust and assistance.”_

 

The voices appeared even more anxious and afraid.

 

_“This is th' Green Paladin, we are asking for your assistance and your assistance only, if you call any back up we will not hesitate to attack. All we ask for is th-"_

 

 _“He's not here.”_ A Galra man on the other end broke the silence, his voice shaking. _“We repeat, he is not here, please, check for yourself but he is not on this ship.”_

 

These Galra didn't sound like soldiers or generals at all, and it put them on edge.

 

Pidge closed off the radio line for a little bit.

 

“So what do we do?” She asked.

 

Allura was the next to speak. _“Lance, Hunk, get on that ship, don't shoot first. We've done a scan and there's a room with Keith's quintessence still inside. They're lying, but don't make them think that.”_

 

The pair shivered at that and turned on their radio frequencies again.

 

“This is the Blue Paladin to Galra, the Yellow Paladin and I are boarding.”

 

_“He's not on here, but as you wish.”_

 

Lance and Hunk somberly nodded to each other over the screens of their lions, slipping into the ship's shield and oxygen barrier, guiding them to the docking bay at the top of the ship. The bay, which was covered with a reflective glass dome, slid open and white light flooded out from behind it. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but when they did...well, it's like the ship was bigger on the inside. The walls were silver and glowing with the light, and what looked like green leafy plants bordered the ground and blew wildly with the Lion's thrusters pointed at the ground. Already, two Galra in crisp violet uniforms were waiting for them by a large door marked with red Galran letters, standing straight with their hands clasped behind their backs. Lance was the first to land with Blue, Hunk and Yellow tightly squeezing in next to them. Lance kept his bayard with him, and Blue lowered her head, opening her maw so he could climb out. Hunk was already there, giving Lance a soft reassuring smile.

 

“I am Tartarus, and this is Melanzo, we understand you are looking for the Red Paladin?” One of the Galra introduced themselves. The speaker, Tartarus, had a shake in his voice and long violet hair that was tied and held under an elastic cap, a tail whipped around at his feet and his face seemed to be shaved, with heavy bags under his eyes. Melanzo had softer features and a slim face, ears pricked up with purple tufts on the tips and white spots and lines that ran down in symmetrical patterns on his face, chewing his lip anxiously.

 

“Yeah, like we said, we have evidence that we believe he is on this ship.” Lance firmly stated. “One wrong move and it's over, so I wouldn't step out of line if I was you. Besides, the nearest Galra military fleet is a few systems away, and you really don't want that now, do you?”

 

 _“Easy Lance, we can't alert them too much.”_ Shiro cautioned. _“Pidge is scanning the area, check your screens, she and Coran will send out maps.”_

 

“So what do you want us to-"

 

“We just need an escort, we'll be looking around the place.” Hunk interrupted, and Melanzo went to open the doors, letting Lance and Hunk take the lead with the two Galran medical officers following them.

 

Lance furrowed his brow as he looked at the maps, dark blue with orange spots and trails, the higher the concentration of quintessence, the darker and larger the spots were. The hallway in front of them glowed a little, but a small room two floors down burned with orange.

 

“Tartarus, we need to get to the floor two down.” Lance instructed. The two were guided to an elevator.

 

“Hey Lance, you get th' feelin' that somethin's not right?” Hunk asked.

 

Lance was getting chills all over him just standing here. He dryly swallowed and balled his hand into a fist to ease himself.

 

“Yeah. You feel it too?” Lance looked over to Hunk, who nodded once. The elevator doors opened again, but this time Lance and Hunk had to take a step back.

 

The corridors were crowded with Galrans, nurses and doctors rushing past in a blur, patients wrapped in bandages hobbling on crutches, the whole lot. To say that everyone was looking at them was an understatement. Someone screamed, and the crowd parted like a sea. Of course everyone was unarmed. Lance stiffened and followed the map forwards, leaving the crossroads and walking straight ahead. Windows took up most of the hall, many with lavender curtains pulled across and light seeping out through the cracks. The windows that were open however, they got to see first hand what normal Galra were like. A woman was screaming behind a door, in labour by the sounds of it. A young Galra, who looked at them in pure fear, was leaning against a wall, his left leg gone above the knee. It wouldn't surprise them if many victims from Voltron attacks were being rehabilitated here, torn up and broken.

 

Hunk shuddered and soldiered forwards, reading the maps. He made the mistake of looking to his left and looking into a window. His mistake? A woman at a bed with a young child. The child, a small Galra with tubes in it's arm and up it's nose, was lying on the bed, sleeping peacefully with a woman who had to be it's mother next to it and holding it's tiny hand in her own. The Galra woman even had a turquoise handbag on the floor next to her, and a few beaded bracelets hanging off her wrists, wearing a patterned yellow skirt and a brown jacket, anxiously watching her child with tears in her eyes. Even though Hunk gad gained an image of Galra as bloodthirsty and greedy (apart from Keith though, he was cool with Hunk) Hunk still had to remember that these aliens are just like them: capable of love, capable of feeling and belonging. Hunk didn't even know he had stopped until Tartarus bumped into him.

 

Hunk quickly apologised and looked back up at the map. A room on the right was completely orange. Lance seemed to know it too.

 

“This one. This room right here.” Lance pointed at the door, not taking his eyes off Melanzo as he slowly opened the room.

 

It was dark. No smell permeated the air, and it made them uneasy. The lights flickered to life, and they had to admit it, they were confused at first. Keith should be here, the room was still glowing, unless…

 

“Guys, we're goin' in.” Lance murmured through the comms.

 

Lance slowly entered the room, glancing around the place before he stood in something slippery. Hunk heard it too, as he whipped around and met his eyes. They cringed at the thought, but they had to look down eventually, even if they didn't want to see what they were going to see. Lance had his foot in a small puddle of slick and blood, slightly dried at the edges of the spot but it still clung to his foot. He almost puked in his mouth and his heart dropped. Keith wasn't here, no, but he was here. And he was standing in it. Keith was raped here, and he was standing in it.

 

“Lance, let's go.” Hunk said, grabbing Lance's hand and pulling him out of their, blurring past everyone else in the corridors and-

 

_“Lance, Hunk, why are you runnin'? What's goin' on-"_

 

“Sorry Pidge but now's not a good time!” Hunk barked back and rushed past everyone, dragging a dumbfounded Lance along with him and back to the Lions. “But we're outta here!”

 

~

 

They explained everything on the journey back, so by the time they were out of their lions, they didn't need to say anything at all.

 

Lance was the second to dock, and he felt nothing but grateful he was still in the castle. That room...he didn't even want to think about the things that went on in there. Well, he'd already heard what went on in there, but now he had the evidence stuck on his foot. He glanced down at his foot, tilting it a little bit and cringed. It glistened like water in the light, translucent and tinged with red. The first thing he would do when he got back to his room was disinfect his foot and take a shower. Lance sighed and eventually got out of his seat, stepping on his heel so the slick on his foot didn't touch the floor, and climbed out, taking the tube up to the main bridge.

  
When they saw his foot, they couldn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say, really.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: In which Keith is shifted to another ship for interrogation, this time a civilian hospital ship, where he is sexually assaulted and raped. A nurse who is given the task of sending him food and water and to tend his wounds is secretly a Blade of Marmora spy, and Keith's mother, relays coordinates back to the Blade of Keith's current whereabouts and his next destination. Again, an audio recording of Keith's torture is sent, and Shiro has a breakdown while hearing it.
> 
> The Blade of Marmora is in touch with team Voltron, and are now working together to find him with the Nurse, Bolormaa, and her coordinates. Chapter ends with Voltron raiding the hospital ship (after much argument about how they'll handle the situation due to this being a civilian place and not military) and just missing Keith's departure.  
> -  
> I feel like I rushed this chapter a bit (I wasn't entirely satisfied with the pacing but I just wanted this chapter out there) and some feedback on this would be really appreciated thank you! and if you got this far, thank you! (and Keith finally gets rescued with a bit of help next chapter!)
> 
> EDIT: I in no way condone sexual violence just to get that out there. What I write may not necessarily reflect my views and I would never write this subject in an arousing or agreeing way


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is finally found, but a difficult choice could mean life or death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for graphic torture and aftermath of sexual assault.

 

She was his mother? Well, it explained why she was so nice, why she acted all off after hearing his name and why she was so shocked and almost in tears at seeing him like that against the wall. Keith felt a tightness in his throat and his heart beat like a drum in his chest. His mother. He had just met her and she was wonderful. The word still felt alien on his tongue, but he had a _mother,_ one that wanted to see him and one that loved him. One that risked everything to get him safe. His mother, who just had to see him so so weak and vulnerable and exposed on the floor.

 

He was taken out of the room barely ten minutes later, tubes ripped from his nose and dragged by the wrists through the corridors again and tossed onto another pod. They really looked to be in a hurry this time, for some odd reason. This time, the pod was dimly lit and he was facing a window on the floor. Apart from the stars that swirled around before him, his own opaque face was looking back at him, tired and hollow. Had he really changed that much? Bags were under his eyes and his skin looked almost sickly, pale and a little sunken in. Why was that? Sure, he was hungry and cold for most of the time, but he couldn't have changed that much in just a handful of days, right?

 

Where is Red?

 

~

 

Keith was woken up this time, with a harsh shove on his shoulder, and then getting a sharp kick to the gut. Keith grit his teeth, fuck, and he thought alarm clocks gave him heart attacks. He knew he was now on a military ship when he caught a glimpse of violet armour, and the hallways and corridors were dimly lit. What was it with Galra and their dim light aesthetics? Sure, it was probably to conserve power or something, but honestly, staying that long in dim light can only be a hindrance eventually. The soldier uncuffed his feet and yanked his arm up, drawing him to his feet, and with felt like a gun pressed to his back, Keith walked. It's funny, even a gun pressed to his spine didn't do anything for him anymore. They weren't going to shoot him anyway.

 

The corridors were unsettlingly empty, their footsteps echoed and they seemed to go on forever. They didn't even pass any sentries on the way. No, this was wrong, the Galra surely wouldn't be that stupid to have just one soldier to escort him in a bare hallway. But then again, his head felt fuzzy, like something was trying to pry into it, and it settled into a dull ache at the back of his mind. He just tried to block it out. The soldier made a sharp turn and pressed his hand to a door plate, opening it and shoving him in. Keith hit the ground on his side, kicking against it to at least get into an upright position against the wall.

 

“Haggar's orders, she wanted you to have this.” The soldier barked, his voice deep and gravelly.

 

A small string of wires was thrown at Keith's face, and he winced and sent a scowl to the soldier, who was already turning back and leaving. Fuck, he couldn't even pick it up. His head still throbbed, and Keith found himself slipping away from reality.

 

~

 

_Even in sleep, Keith couldn't escape the throbbing in his head. What was once at the back of his skull now filled it, like a thousand emotions all at once, a swarm of insects banging around in there and it just wouldn't stop. At least he could use his hands in his sleep. Keith squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, curling up and trying to concentrate on something else…_

 

_...what else was there? Home was nice. Earth. That was home, right? But home didn't always have to be a place, could he consider the paladins and Allura and Coran home? They were nice, and they welcomed him into their rag-tag group, yeah, they were home. The Lions? Red was always motherly and caring towards him. She would visit him in his dreams, she would listen to him and talk to him, look after him and she was...well, she was always there for him. Red was home. What about his year in the desert? That little broken shack became home for a while. Sure, it had a leaky roof and the water tasted horrible, but that home basically saved him after the Garrison gave him the boot. A year in the desert, sometimes not even talking or saying a word for days at a time, yet it was the most freedom he'd ever felt. It was just him, a banged up hoverbike and a phone signal that cut on and off as much as the illegal electricity. Sometimes he'd just lock up the shack and take the hoverbike and just drive. Drive as far as possible and as far away as he could, sometimes for days and weeks at a time, looking for work under the table and in odd places. But no matter where he went, he always went back to the same old shack. The shack with the unreliable electricity and the leaky roof. That was home, that was a place for him._

 

_Keith tried to control his breathing and focused less on the pain in his head and more on that one place, trying to conjure and dust off the fuzzy images in the back of his mind. The creak of the hardwood floors, the faint rustle of his endless yellowing papers and charts pinned against the wall, the window that always caught the afternoon sun and sent it streaming in ribbons across the room. His bed had stained white sheets, stolen from his bed back at the Garrison as a 'fuck you' right before he left, barely a twin sized mattress on the floor but for him it was luxury. He could almost feel the crinkles in the sheets pressing against his face, the sheets that always managed to twist themselves around his feet like vines and the pillow that always ended up being hugged to his chest._

 

_It was different though, something warm and large was softly pressed against his back, sort of like being spooned from behind. It wasn't bad though, if anything, he welcomed it. It's just been so long since he'd even had human contact._

 

_Once he was sure the vision would last, he opened his eyes._

 

_The swelling from his eye was completely gone, and he could vaguely see across the room, vision blurring and flickering before focusing right. The walls had stains and rings along the dark wood, and a few shredded scraps of cream wallpaper still stubbornly clung to it. A low purr filled the room, warm and soothing, just like the honey tone strings of a viola. Wait, purring?_

 

_“Red?” Keith breathed, still keeping his eyes on the wall._

 

_“My cub.” She murmured back, draping a paw over his side and snuggling him into her. Her belly fur was softer and longer, and so warm and safe._

 

_Keith sighed and all but melted into her._

 

_“My cub, my brave cub, you're safe here.” Red comforted, licking his hair and pressing her nose to the top of his head, purring deeply. “They won't hurt you here.”_

 

_She never left. She was always here, of course, why would he doubt her? Keith swallowed thickly and felt his chest tighten. God, he hoped this dream would never end._

 

_“You're here.” He croaked, unable to stop the waver in his voice and he bit down on his lip. He's had enough of crying, he didn't want to spoil this moment._

 

_“That I am and I am sorry. I couldn't reach you in time, there's barely anything left of me.” She lamented._

 

_What did she mean, barely any of her left?_

 

_No, he must be taking this the wrong way. Keith furrowed his brow slightly and turned his head up at her._

 

_“What're ya saying?” he asked quietly in disbelief. She hesitated before giving in._

 

_“The wires are the only thing that is bringing me here to you.” Red replied, just as quietly as him. “It's going to be a while before you see me again, but we can always meet here. Would you like that?”_

 

 _All Keith got from that was that they tore her apart, those wires in his lap, they were_ her's _...they'd taken her beautiful form and destroyed it like they did with everything. She was gone. What if they never got her back? She's just lying in pieces somewhere on some ship, getting picked at by cruel purple vultures who don't care about her at all._

 

_Keith's breath hitched in his throat. It wasn't just the Galra that did this to her, if only he left five seconds faster. He did this to her. He was the reason she was torn apart and in pieces. He got himself into this mess and why was she still being so nice to him?_

 

_“Yes.” He whispered, sniffling wetly and curling up into himself. She was gone because of him and why oh why was she still here and why was she so nice and where is she and where are the others and why wasn't he-_

 

_“Hush, my cub. This will pass, but the Galra should never have done that to you in the first place.” She said with a hint of sympathy. “Without you, the Castle would have been followed. You were only thinking of them.”_

 

_Of course she would know what they did to him, she could see his thoughts and memories and everything._

 

_“But I-I did this to you, I don't--deserve y-"_

 

_“No, you deserve more than this.” Red comforted. “I will tear all of them apart if I could. Or I'll get one of my sisters to do it while I'm here.”_

 

_She purred and curled around him, drawing him closer to her so his face was against her soft chest. Keith sniffed and tried unsuccessfully to blink back the tears, instead just openly sobbing wetly into her fur and hugging her awkwardly, as his arms barely got around her shoulders and neck. Her large paws on the middle of his back held him close, and for the first time that week, Keith felt completely safe and at home. Red was so colourful as an organic being, her fur was dappled with countless shades of red from ruby to rose, and soft pearl markings and spots were like soft-edged tattoos, on the underside of her belly and jaw, and in bands and spots on her face and body, her eyes glowing a warm yellow. She even had a faint musky scent, one what was subtle and not too overwhelming._

 

_“I'm so sorry, Red-I didn't mean...fuck, I-I'm so sorry,” Keith sobbed into her chest, letting her groom him like she would to a small cub._

 

_“You don't need to apologise,” Red purred softly back, “you didn't hurt me, you're the best thing to happen to me in a very long time.”_

 

_Keith took another shuddering sob, but couldn't even bring himself to open his mouth without crying out, and just stayed there in her hold, occasionally shaking and hiccuping as he mourned for himself and for her. The rumbling in her throat and chest was soothing, almost like a wordless lullaby._

 

_“We have to go, but remember, they're coming for you and I'm here with you.” Red stated regretfully. “This will all be over soon.”_

 

_Keith sighed deeply but couldn't bring himself to drag away from her. She nuzzled him so he could look right into his eyes._

 

_“They're waiting for you.” Red said in her ever-so-soothing voice, pressing her nose to his forehead and that was the last thing Keith saw._

 

_~_

 

Keith woke curled up on the floor, a slight kink in his neck, but the dread in his gut was barely even there anymore. Finally, they'll be here soon, just once more but he'll be free. Already eight Galra were looming over him, why they let him sleep he didn't know. Their visors covered their eyes, leaving just their twitching mouths to show any sliver of emotion, flashes of teeth against their violet faces. The tinkle of chains and the rustle of leather destroyed his hope though. But there wasn't just one or two soldiers, there was _eight_.

 

“You know what happens here by now, don't cha?” One of the soldiers sneered at him. “One last chance before this is over for you, no more moving, no more pain, no more living.” The soldier knelt down on one knee, heaving a deep breath before seizing Keith's arm and pulling him upright to his knees. “What do you know about Voltron?”

 

It was laughable, really, just how they thought that by asking the same questions they would surely get an answer. Whatever, he was gonna die anyway. Might as well go off with a bang now, right?

 

“Fine I'll tell y'one thing.” Keith gave in, trying to put on his best 'oh no I'm finally defeated and you win' act. The Galrans all perked up at that, and the one in front of him even leaned in closer, now looking at him determinedly with barely a hand's space between them. His breath stunk. The room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

 

“What do you know?” The Galran repeated.

 

“Suck my dick.” Keith spat at him, clearing his throat before literally spitting in his face.

 

Keith knew it was a dick move (as Lance would put it), but honestly, we're gonna die at some point.

 

The guard sneered at him for a second, lip curling up to flash pointed and yellowed teeth, raising his fist behind him before smashing it on the underside of Keith's jaw. Keith barely had the chance to react, slumping against the cold wall behind him. His teeth had clattered together, probably chipped now, and a bruise was starting to swell on the underside of his chin. Oh well.

 

The guards behind him were now springing to action, their chains rattling, metal clinging and binds hanging off their belts. One even had a small booklet, possibly a log book, peeking up from his belt holster. Keith recognised almost every bit of equipment from his previous tortures, from the binds to the metal poles and wires. His hands were briefly unchained, only to be connected to the edges of the the room by thicker and heavier chains, like his first time getting whipped. He gripped the bundle of Red's wires in his right hand until his knuckles flared white. Another pair of guards, one with T-bars and another with a small black box with a rope of colourful wires, gave him an unpleasant recollection of his time with Traluga. The other few guards? They didn't need an explanation, not with the way they seemed a little too eager to spread his legs and humiliate him like the others did. This time, Keith wouldn't scream, even if he wanted to, which was hard to do with a gag in his mouth and a bind on his face. They wanted to hear him scream and beg for mercy, right? Well this time they wouldn't get it.

 

This was gonna be a long night.

 

-

 

No-one had gotten much rest since the last mission, just solemn silence and bowed heads in the hangar bay.

 

Just like he said he would, the first thing Lance did was clean his foot, sitting cross legged on the edge of the sink in the ensuite bathroom. The water was so hot it was starting to fog up the mirror, and it tinged the tips of his fingers a slight red. With the paladin armour and bodysuit stripped off, he was just sitting in loose black shorts (that were slowly but surely getting damper with the water splashback) and a teal tank top, that was also splattered with wet spots. The footpieces of his armour were sitting in the sink in a small puddle of soapy water, scrubbed with soggy tissue paper and reluctantly with his fingers. Lance just found himself staring at them, feeling completely hollow. Even when they get Keith back, he wasn't sure if Keith would ever be the same, hell, if it was anything like Shiro told them about his time in space, it would certainly fuck him up for a bit. Was he even getting healed between torture rounds? Or were they cruel enough to just stab and hack away at a motionless body? They all heard it, Lance and Hunk saw it. It's like they weren't even trying to clean his cells, almost as if they were keeping them as a type of twisted trophy. Well why wouldn't they? They might as well be wearing it as a badge of honour: _'look at us! We've just given the enemy hell!'._ But to be honest, who wouldn't wear a badge of their enemy's suffering?

 

No, no that was a step too far. Lance knew he wasn't Galra, if he found pleasure in their suffering, that would only make him as bad as them, and they were _not_ them. They couldn't be, right?

 

Lance chewed his lip absently and drained the sink, picking up the armour and drying it off with the hem of his top.

 

 _“_ Lance? You decent?”

 

Hunk. But it wasn't just his footsteps. Hunk's footsteps were heavy but controlled, two smaller footsteps accompanied his. Pidge. Lance swung himself off the sink and flicked the armour, sending droplets flying, unlocking the door and opening it.

 

“Hey, you guys alright?” Lance asked, attempting a weak smile. Hunk and Pidge didn't look to be in the mood for games though.

 

“The Blade has just contacted Allura, they have coordinates.”

 

~

 

The Blade had relayed more than just coordinates, including the ships serial number, and the commander on board. The Ragoa galaxy was where he was, but for some reason, Red wasn't there with him. In fact, the very last thing Allura had felt from her was barely weak cry for help followed by silence. The other lions also seemed to be on edge, she could just feel it. Blue and Yellow were agitated and tense, Green was thinking of where her sister could be, sharing ideas and theories with Pidge, while Black was mourning and desperate. It didn't surprise Allura. Before the lions had sacrificed themselves for Voltron, they were living breathing Altean lions. Black was their pride leader, and mothered Red herself, the others were born to other lionesses but Black still had a role in raising and nurturing them to the point where they all considered each other sisters. They just wanted their sister back, and Black just wanted her daughter and her paladin back.

 

Coran was also dealing with this in his own way, by becoming too focused on getting him back, just like Allura and Shiro.

 

The Blade still wasn't on ground comfortable enough yet to reveal their voices over the comms and in direct messages, but their written word was reliable enough. Even Allura seemed to trust it enough.

 

For the other paladins, well, what did they have to lose?

 

The planning room currently had a projection of the Ragoa galaxy spinning and morphing all around them, stars like freckles scattered over a dapple of blue and purple light, planets and suns revolving around them, in the middle of the table a large white spot was surrounded by many smaller ones. Everyone in the room had their skin glinting with the colourful lights and stars.

 

“Allura, that ship's got it's own fleet of fighters with it. We're ready for it, but can the castle take it?” Shiro asked, frowning and looking at the map currently projected around the room, the ship where Keith was held was a large white dot, with a cluster of smaller white dots all surrounding it like a fence. Allura firmly nodded.

 

“The Castle can take it, it's old but it's still got a lot of fight left in her. We just need a plan.” She dictated, bringing her fingers up to her lips in thought.

 

“How about me and Green, with her cloaking ability, infiltrate the base first and...I got a few ideas, hack into the main control room and take out the electricity for a bit. From the last mission I got to clone some codes of how the system works, and in their emergency shut off, for some reason all the doors open. If we shut down the system and while everyone is confused, we can just rescue him like that.” Pidge suggested with a smug smile, proud of herself for thinking that up.

 

“Yeah? But you sorta forgot that when the power knocks off, they're gonna be a shit ton more alert than before.” Lance added. “Coz when the power goes off, they're gonna go all apples an' bananas about _what_ turned them off.”

 

“Well, we don't even know just how many ships there even are, like, we already know it's a lot, but what if it's something we can handle? Like what we did two missions ago, just dive in there, get him then go?” Hunk added. He did have a point, their last 'quick ditch and run' plan went a lot smoother than they expected.

 

“How about we keep both plans in mind, they both have good points but they both have flaws. If we all go there in the Green Lion, we can judge a plan from the distance.” Shiro inputted. It wasn't going to be easy, that's all they knew. They weren't even sure if they would be prepared to see Keith like that, if it was anything like the recordings, there might not even be anything left of him to save. If anything, he already sounded pretty fucked up physically, and from prior experience, Shiro was almost certain that his mental health would be just as fucked up as well. No one wins.

 

Shiro remembered back before he left for Kerberos, him and Keith had a rather morbid but interesting talk back at the Garrison. Keith wished that when he dies, he'd want to be cremated, and for his ashes to be scattered wherever, _'just don't keep me bottled up on some ol' mantelpiece, will ya?'._ Shiro asked him why, he had plenty of time ahead of him. _'Just in case'_ was his reply. Shiro told him that when he died, he'd just want the cheapest option available, he'd put aside some money to cover the costs and to shout everyone a drink at his funeral. Keith didn't want a funeral, he just wanted his body burned and freed as fast as possible, but if he could get the carbon removed from his ashes and turned into diamonds, he'd give one to Shiro and another to his mother. How touched he felt at that. How it scared Shiro now that their small midnight talk might just be a reality.

 

That dreading alarm echoed through the castle's halls and walls again, blanketing the moment with thick tension and worry. Allura furrowed her brow, sighed and switched off the projection, and at once the lights flooded back on. Wordlessly, they left their places and headed back to the bridge, awaiting for the call to be answered. Coran was the one to do the honours this time, but he hesitated for a bit before pressing the button with wavering fingers.

 

The room darkened and the window screen lit up. A flash of grey and violet light caught onto them, different from the stark darkness they were usually met with. The camera was tilted at the roof. The familiar rattle of chains was accompanied this time with faint whimpers and sobs, that wet sound from before and the sound of metal twisting into flesh made their skin crawl.

 

 _“Last chance, you want him back, you get him soon.”_ a raspy voice spoke, this time directly to them and not to Keith.

 

The all quickly shielded their eyes as the camera started to slowly pan down, taunting and teasing them with their friends torture and possible dying moments. Hunk heard Allura's dismayed cry, Pidge murmuring words to herself to block out the helpless sounds and the determined tap of fingers on a tablet (a substitute for Shiro destroying part of the control panel]. Hunk looked down and covered his eyes. No, he would never ever want to see Keith like that, humiliating for him and scarring for himself.

 

Thankfully, it was switched off right before it got to actually showing him on video, thanks to Coran.

 

It didn't even have to be said, everyone just had one thought and goal running through their heads.

 

_Bring him back._

 

They didn't have much of a plan, but Keith desperately needed them, and there was no time for hesitation.

 

[~](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OyVFppe-pNM)

 

Just as they outlined, the remaining paladins would all pile onto the Green Lion, and with the Blades coordinates, infiltrate the ship. At least it wouldn't be like the hospital ship where they couldn't even draw a gun, this was a full blown military command, and guns and weapons were all welcomed. Encouraged, one might say.

 

Pidge piloted Green slowly, keeping her distance from the other ships and debris. Occasionally she'd even say a quick _'easy, girl' 'take your time, Green'._

 

Green was even present in their minds as well, not as strong as her bond with Pidge, but she was there. To put it lightly, Green felt like a curious child to them, with her wonder and caution at everything around them rubbed off onto their linked minds. Green, with Pidge helping her, was stealthy and quiet, evading ships as fluidly as water. It didn't ease their tension though, and everyone was feeling it. Lance and Shiro were supporting themselves with the sides of Pidges seat, gripping the headrest tightly while Hunk held onto their shoulders.

 

“Hey Shiro? What if--what if Keith's not there?” Lance commented with a pang of hopelessness. “I mean, that last recordin', they basically said they were gon' kill him. What if it's just a body pickup?”

 

They couldn't blame Lance for saying that. It was all in the backs of their minds anyway.

 

“Then let's just hope not. If he is...not with us anymore, he-he told me a long time ago that he'd want to be cremated. We'll return his body to Earth, it's what he would've wanted.” Shiro replied, chewing his lip and looking away to the floor, unable to meet their eyes.

 

“Hey, we'll get him, if those healin' pods can save Lance from almost death, they can save Keith.” Hunk added.

 

“But someone needs to save him first.” Pidge quietly murmured back. She was completely focused on getting them out there, weaving through the tight formations of Galra fleets. “We're here.”

 

The Green Lion wove out of the fleet, hovering in the air as it studied the ship. It was at least three times as big as the Castle, docked onto what looked like a station. Or perhaps the station was docked onto _it?_ Shapely roughly like a diamond, the ship loomed and completely dwarfed them, large strips of violet cut into the sides and a Galra Insignia was the crowning glory, glowing right in the heart of the twist structure. The silver glinted with the light, and the faint reflections of the ships and the suns and the stars were ghosting like shadows across the silver. The station, which looked like a large wagon wheel, slowly spun underneath it, connected with barely a pin in contrast to the rest of the ship. The wheel and the spindle. The poisonous prick. Keith had to be in that ship, and according to the quintessence maps, he was right in the heart of it under lock and key.

 

“First, we need to override central command. I take it you'll be onto that, Pidge?” Hunk asked. Pidge sharply nodded in reply. “So if Pidge overrides it, who'll be the ones rescuing Keith?”

 

“Hang on, I need someone to help me kick ass in case if it all goes tits up in the control room. Hunk, you up for helpin' me get to the room and keep watch an' to reverse engineer some alien tech?” Pidge questioned. It made a lot of sense, they were even: two of them had long range weapons, two had close range weapons. Pairs with long and close range weapons would be a wise idea. Hunk looked to Lance and Shiro, who nodded for him.

 

“Lance and I'll be the ones to retrieve him, but with two against a few hundred, we will need some backup.” Shiro implored. “Allura and Coran did tell us that if it gets particularly heavy, they'll intervene and help us escape with direct hits that could hurt us as much as the Galra, but it's risky and they can't go directly on board that ship.”

 

“Good point, but I think we're pretty good for now, we just gotta try not get hit or get too balls deep in a Galra mob. 'Coz those guys...look what they did to Keith, if we get captured, that's it.“ Lance sighed. “But I'm gonna take those chances, let's bring 'im home.”

 

It wasn't the best plan, but it was the best they had, and that was all they needed.

 

[~](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OyVFppe-pNM)

 

Red. Red was all Shiro could see. Red warning lights pulsed through the dark hallways and red was at the edge of his vision. His boots thunked along the metal floor, and he had to leap over what felt like hundreds of fallen Galra bodies, many destroyed beyond recognition. He had to be here, he just had to. Otherwise this would have all been for nothing. Pidge and Hunk had executed their job perfectly, disabling all the sentries on the ship with a targeted electromagnetic pulse, unlocking every single electric lock and disabling every single bit of Galra tech.

 

Shiro and Lance had the upper hand, without their electricity, the Galra's guns couldn't work. One thing him and Lance learnt was that it was a lot harder to shoot and kill a Galra, a living breathing thing, when you were so close to them you could look them in their burning golden eyes. Lance had gotten clipped on the calf with a blade, but he insisted on holding them off on this hallway, that Pidge and Hunk were onto something. Shiro desperately wanted to stay and fight with Lance, but Keith was right down this hallway, he was just _down there._

 

Shiro's lungs screamed at him as he skidded around a sharp corner, following the glowing orange trail on the map in the left corner of his visor, the orange gradually grew and grew until a room, the last on the left, was basically bursting with it. It only grew stronger, until he found the cell. A cell with a boarded up viewing window and many scratches on the lock. Arm activated, his Galra arm whirred to life and slashed through the metal locks like butter. The smell smashed into him like a brick, and he kicked the lead like door in with a grunt and his teeth grit.

 

"Keith? Are y-"

 

Shiro's breath hitched in his throat at what he saw. Barely slumped and tied up naked against the wall in the middle of the cell was Keith. Eyes red and puffy from what looked like days of crying, a strap of leather covering the lower parts of his face. His sweaty bangs obscured most of his face, and he seemed to be struggling for breath, barely conscious. Keith's hands were linked by long chains to the corners of the room, a bundle of wires still gripped in his right hand, as if he was clinging to them for dear life. Blood was pooling onto the ground, spilling over his shoulders and thighs from the T-shaped poles and blades jammed into his flesh and bone, raw whip marks peeking out from his sides. Sickly colourful bruises marred his abdomen, hips and thighs (some even in the shape of hands) and translucent slick tinged with blood was dripping out onto the floor from underneath him and pooling between his thighs, ropes of it on his abdomen and legs. Shiro just wanted to puke and what they'd done to him. How was he still alive?

 

Keith weakly looked up at him, tear-filled eyes glazing over and his battered body shook with every weak breath he took. And it was only getting weaker and weaker. He was dying.

 

 _“Keith!”_ Shiro cried out and rushed over to him, falling to his knees and ripping the bind away from his face. Keith barely looked at him before his head tilted back and he was out cold, split lips slightly parted and head lolled back. Fuck, this couldn't be happening. This just couldn't, he-he promised Keith he would protect him all those years ago, he promised he promised he _promised._ Just one look at him and Shiro knew he had failed. A ripped purple shirt was tossed to the side of the room, and Shiro grabbed it to preserve just a little bit of modesty and made to gather him up with an arm behind his back and another hooked under his knees. He fell completely limp in Shiro's arms.

 

“Come in, I-I've got him.” Shiro breathed into the comm, cradling Keith close and scrambling as far away from that room as possible, rushing down the halls and just trying his best to not hurt him too much.

 

 _“Roger that, everyone to the Green Lion, NOW. “_ Pidge barked down the comm, the sound of gunfire in the background and her and Hunk were on their way by the sounds of it.

 

Gunfire blasted down the hallway as well, but it was at slower intervals, either a good thing or a bad thing depending on how you saw it. Shiro just prayed that Lance would be okay. Thank whatever was above that he was, leaning against a wall and firing off into the distance, shooting out some soldiers that even Shiro couldn't see. Lance truly was the team's Sharpshooter. In fact, he didn't even hear Shiro behind him.

 

“Shiro? You--oh god-" Lance started, jaw hanging loose as he caught a glimpse of Keith in Shiro's arms.

 

“Lance, we gotta move!” Shiro urged, and dashed down the hallway, Lance running in long strides next to him, expertly blasting at soldiers down the other side of the hallway, taking the lead and blasting the enemy out of the way with every corner and every turn they took. When Lance looked back, he had splatters of blue blood on his face and armour.

 

“Next right!” Lance barked, and without warning he shot at a weak spot in the wall with a particularly powerful shot, caving in the wall in a flurry of dust and metal shards and revealing the open maw of the Green Lion, embedded into the ship so perfectly it was like a perfect seal. Hunk and Pidge were already in there, and Shiro had barely set foot in before they were scooped up and rocketed out of that hellscape.

 

With Pidge being the pilot, it was all up to them on saving Keith now.

 

Hunk was already waiting, with the Green Lion's first aid kit, but he paled and looked like he's throw his guts up at the sight of Keith bleeding out in Shiro's arms.

 

“Jesus christ, _Keith!?”_ Hunk cried out and dropped to his knees next to Shiro, who was gently laying him on the ground. God, he just looked so _broken._ And still he grasped onto those wires.

 

“Hunk, is there anythin' that can staunch blood in there!?” Lance called out, now dead serious. “Is there even a _pulse!?”_

 

Shiro winced and pressed his ear down to Keith's chest, and even through the bloodstained fabric of the shirt a faint rise and fall was present along with a heartbeat so faint it may as well have not been there at all.

 

“Barely.” Shiro relayed.

 

“Pads and gauze. We can remove th' smaller ones, but for god's sake just hold as much pressure as possible.” Hunk fretted, a waver in his voice as he passed around the gauze, disinfectant and cotton pads. Lance was already working on removing a few small shards of metal from his legs, blood slicking his fingers, and pressing down on the bleeding with the heels of his hands. Hunk was working on his shoulders, delicately peeling the fabric away to tighten gauze around the T-bars in en effort to stop the bleeding. It wasn't working, he needed blood or he'll die. Shiro pressed the heels of his hands onto a gash on his side, the red seeping out from under his hands and staining his pale skin. Quickly glancing over at the first aid kit, he noticed a series of tubes and needles and an idea came to mind. Shit, what was his blood type? Shiro was a type A, while he had no idea what Keith was, and the wrong blood would surely kill him faster. But he needed an emergency transfusion and fast.

 

“Listen team, this isn't workin', he needs blood. Can _anyone_ here be a donor?” He asked around, looking at their anxious faces.

 

“I'm an O, my memory is fuzzy but I'm sure I'm a universal donor.” Pidge shouted back, twisting her arm around to them, “do it.”

 

Lance was the one this time to grab the needles, gently inserting a needle into the vein on Keith's right wrist and the other on Pidge's. She twitched a few times, but the cabin was filled with relief when red snaked down the tube to Keith. Pidge could pilot with one hand if she needed to. Thank the stars for Garrison medical courses.

 

It was all a blur, Allura and Coran's fading voices on the comms, the racing heartbeat in his ears, the warm blood on his hands and knees and the cooling skin he tried to save, the desperate cries of the others as Lance, as a last resort, used mouth-to-mouth, Pidge growing weak at the wheel, Hunk pulling the T-bars out with a skin-crawling crunch and wet pop of flesh. The light of the castle flooding into Green, cradling Keith's broken body closely and getting him into the pod just a few seconds too late.

 

Just five seconds too late.

 

[-](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2LVaIkZoUI0)

 

_Keith didn't remember much of being saved._

 

_He couldn't remember what he saw, but he felt every moment of it: humiliation, agony and relief._

 

_Humiliation: that they had to see him like this._

 

_Agony: because everything hurt so much and he couldn't think straight when it felt like all his limbs were being torn off his body._

 

_Relief: that it would all be over soon._

 

_All he saw was the door being kicked open and suddenly Shiro was knelt down in front of him begging for him to stay awake. The cell was cold, but here it was warm, it was peaceful...it was home. Stained white sheets were twisted around his feet, and afternoon sunlight was in soft beams across his bare chest. A faint breeze rippled the flimsy lace curtains, and he felt completely at home._

 

 _Back at his desert shack, the one he knew so intimately and the only place he could ever call his home, his_ real _home._

 

_Keith was staring up at the ceiling on his back, arms outstretched on either side of him and legs slightly parted. The wires still sat on his palm, and he closed his fist over them loosely. There was no pain anymore, just peace. He sighed deeply and held it for a few seconds before releasing it and allowing himself to sink into the mattress. The faint tinkle of the copper windchime on his porch chimed in, soothing and only adding to the fact that this felt real._

 

_This felt so real._

 

_It was like the lines of dreaming and reality were blurred and erased altogether. Something brushed against his hand, and he peered out of the corner of his eye to see a familiar face. Was face the right word? It had to be: two glowing gold eyes, pearl-like markings that seemed to shimmer in the light and fur dappled and spliced of every red there was._

 

_“Red?” Keith breathed._

 

_“I am here.” She whispered in reply, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling with him. Her flanks touched his side as she breathed, and she was warm, her head resting on his hand._

 

_“We're here...dreaming?”_

 

_She seemed to chuckle at that. “Not exactly.”_

 

_She rolled off the mattress and slinked over to the window, sitting down and resting her head on the sil with the chipped cream paint. Curious as what she was seeing, Keith rolled off the mattress, dragging the sheet with him, and knelt down next to her to stare out the window. The desert was empty, dry brown sand and cracked soil for miles around, surrounded by a bowl of mountains that seemed red from a distance, the blue sky completely clear and the white hot sun high in the sky. The heat was enough to prickle his skin, and the breeze ruffled his hair. As he went to fold his arms and rest them against the windowsill, the environment changed, It twisted and morphed, growing darker and taller and the wind buffeted and whipped his face. Red didn't seem fazed though, and her face stayed the same even as the environment contorted and transfigured around them._

 

_What was once empty lands, tall looming structures burst out of the ground and the sun disappeared, they were jolted up and even though it was dark, bright flashing lights dazzled Keith's' eyes in neons blues bright pinks and dim whites. Cars revved in the distance and police sirens wailed. Occasionally a passing car would illuminate the broken windows of the buildings below. Keith glanced over at Red, who still stayed watching the scene, pink and blue lights saturating her fur._

 

_Keith looked behind him. Two rickety metal bunk beds were parallel against the walls with peeling light blue wallpaper, only one with an actual mattress on it, and underneath it a small grey backpack and a pair of small shoes that would now be able to fit into his hand. His old room at the orphanage in the middle of the city. The neglected room for an unwanted six year old. The windowsill still had flaked cream paint on it._

 

_“How long were you here for?” Red finally spoke. Keith shrugged._

 

_“Three years.”_

 

_Red looked behind at the neglected room, how empty and lonely it felt, down to the door on rusted hinges and the creaks in the wooden floor and the black spots of mould on the ceiling._

 

_“This is no place for my cub to be raised.” She decided. “How did you put up with it here?”_

 

_To Keith, this place was all he knew for the early stages of his childhood. He wasn't sure what happened the day he was sent here, only that he was five years old and his dad had packed a bag for him, ushered him into the car of a family friend with a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, saying that he loved him but it was too dangerous for him to be with him anymore, that he'll be taken of by people better than him. 'Why?' Keith remembered asking, so innocent and so confused back then. 'Because we love you, an' it ain't safe for you here anymore.' his dad replied, almost in tears but enough for him to have a hug before the car drove off away, leaving the shack behind them in the dust. It was almost midnight when the car was pulled up beside the orphanage, and he was woken up from his sleep in the backseat. With his green bag on his shoulder and his pillow hugged to his chest and his other hand in the one of his father's friend, he drowsily walked up to the doors, it was barely five minutes before a really nice lady with a gap in her tooth, dark skin and her afro like a regal lion's mane, took his hand and showed him up to a room in the top storey, one with two bunk beds. One bed was already occupied. 'There's extra sheets and blankets in th' wardrobe, you'll be woken up at seven. Good night sweetie.' she said (at least that's what he remembered of it) and once she left the room and he was sure his new roommate was asleep, he cried into his pillow for an hour. He never had a mother, and he found himself clinging to her, what's her name, it was hard to pronounce with his five year old speech so she insisted she be called Ricca. Sure, she was just a nurse working there, and he was temperamental and shut off to all the other kids, but she was always so nice and patient, always the one to sneak him an extra cookie or five more minutes of sleep. She taught him how to read well, how to write and how to sew because he never paid much attention in classes anyway. She even taught him how to play a flute along with two other children. All the other kids came and went, but he still remained. Years came and gone but he was still there. When he was finally adopted, taken to Australia at eight years old, he hugged her for five minutes and cried the whole time. He never saw Ricca and her gap toothed smile and crinkled eyes again._

 

_He didn't even realise that his eyes were watery until something salty crept into his lip. He sniffed and wiped it with the edge of his sheet._

 

_“Well.” He replied with his voice cracking. He folded his arms on the windowsill and rested his chin on his forearms, watching the city lights dance and glow on the buildings, the warm yellow lights from apartments blinking and flashing on and off._

 

_“At least the view is beautiful.” Red spoke after a long time, giving his hair a few long licks, grooming him in comfort. She rubbed the underside of her chin against the top of his head and the sides of his face, making sure that he knew he wasn't alone._

 

 _The room contorted and deformed once again, the buildings sinking into the ground and the colourful lights were swallowed, the concrete and metal was replaced with cracked dirt and dried grass. The loneliness of the room was gone, the metal bunks had vanished, and instead two old worn out leather couches had taken their places, and the light, natural warm sunlight, flooded the room. The wallpaper was no longer peeling, and it was a pale yellow this time. The room seemed to be twisting and morphing into more a home. A living room made way for a kitchenette, one with a linoleum floor and stained walls, the smell of something cooking, something that smelt actually_ good, _only added to it._

 

_Was that singing?_

 

_Keith couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been here before._

 

_“Red? Where are we?” Keith murmured, looking up at her. She seemed to be smiling, her eyes glowing brightly her presence felt excited and joyful. So innocent and child like._

 

_“Why don't you turn around?” She teased back._

 

_Keith gulped and instinctively reached out for her shoulder, propping himself up on en elbow, and at the same time they turned around._

 

 _A man, humming a low tune as he cooked, was in the kitchenette, patches of stubble on his face and his hands calloused and feet bare. This man seemed to be wearing a white tank top and flannel shorts, smiling as he cooked what smelt like eggs and toast. Keith had no idea why, but his throat tightened as he watched this man, who he swore he had seen somewhere before, just cooking breakfast. The man turned around. And_ smiled.

 

_“It's been a while, ain't it Keith?”_

 

_That voice. That voice he heard singing at the back of his mind, the voice that told him he was loved back when he was just five years old, the voice that for his first five years was his only form of family._

 

_And Keith couldn't say a thing. It's been over fifteen years since he'd seen that face and heard that voice. The man-no, his dad, seemed to understand, smiling sadly at him and taking a stride over to a cupboard, pulling out two chipped enamel plates (that looked more like flat bowls to Keith) and setting them on the counter next to the sink. Keith watched silently as he buttered two slightly burnt slices of toast, slipping a fried egg on it, and grabbing a couple of knives and forks._

 

_“You must be hungry, right? It's been awhile since you've been on Earth.” His dad lightly joked, holding out a plate for him. “I couldn't live off..green goop for the rest of my life.”_

 

_He knelt down in front of Keith and Red, and he even ran his hand down Red's back to her delight._

 

 _“How do you even--_ know _all of this?” Keith finally said, still not believing that his dad was actually in front of him after fifteen years. His dad just smiled and shared a look with Red._

 

_“She told me. I sorta knew you'd be like yer mother.” He replied, as if it was as casual as talking about the weather. Keith still didn't believe it, he had too many questions._

 

_“Well--where am I? One minute I'm-I'm in some Galra ship an' th' next I'm in too many places at once...why?” Keith asked, his throat tightening and he swallowed thickly, staring down at the fried egg on his plate._

 

_“Son, Keith. I'm dead, I died th' night y'were sent to th' orphanage.” His dad explained._

 

_“So this is...real?”_

 

_His dad nodded, and Red sent a sympathetic gaze his way._

 

_”I'm dead.” Keith concluded, just like that. It shouldn't come as a surprise, but it still didn't answer his question: what was the meaning of all of this?_

 

_His dad leaned forwards and sighed, biting his lip for a bit before looking him in the eye. God, he looked so much like Shiro._

 

_“You're not quite dead, but you ain't quite alive either. This is where you make that choice.” he explained. “I know what happened to ya on that ship-"_

 

_“Everything?” Keith interrupted with his breath hitching in his throat._

 

_“Everything.” His dad confirmed, and Keith surpassed a shudder. “It's why you're here. You're dying.”_

 

_So his life was literally flashing before his eyes: from his year in the desert, the three years in the orphanage, and his first five years here._

 

_Keith felt his lip tremble, and Red hugged him close to her side in a comforting gesture. He didn't know what to do._

 

_“Son, you've lived an amazin' life so far, you've come from shit an' really grew into your own person, hell, ya literally pilot an alien lioness an' defend th' universe!” His dad smiled at him with a small laugh. “You've done so, so much more than I could ever have imagined. What exactly happened to th' lil' squirt that couldn't sleep without th' light on, eh?”_

 

_Even Keith had to smile at that. A lot happened in those fifteen years._

 

_“I got moved around a lot, moved all across Australia, found a brother in Shiro an'...an' I found a family.” Keith answered, smiling weakly, fidgeting with his knife. “You know I love them.”_

 

_His dad nodded back, and took Keith's hands in his own, running his thumbs over the bones in the back of his hands._

 

_“Keith Gyeong, you're my son, an' you're one half of the best things to ever happen to me, that an' meetin' your mother.” He said honestly, and when he saw Keith's jaw quiver he pulled him in for a hug, tightly holding him close for the first time in fifteen years. Keith hesitated, but he found himself returning the hug, trying not to cry on his dad's shoulder. It felt like ages before he finally pulled away._

 

_“Keith, there's still time. Stay for a bit, huh?” His dad suggested._

 

_Keith looked to Red, who seemed to nod as a 'go ahead'._

 

_“Of course I want to.” Keith replied honestly. There was nothing he wanted more._

 

_“Then I'll get ya somethin' other than a bedsheet to wear.” His dad got up with a grunt and disappeared into a room, coming back with a black shirt and what looked like checkered shorts, throwing them to Keith, who caught them easily. “Tell me when ya decent.” he said and turned back into the room, giving him a bit of privacy._

 

_Just like Bolormaa's shirt, this one was baggy on him, but the shorts seemed to fit just fine. Red's seen him all before, it didn't matter much. He called out a quick okay and his dad came back into the room with a weak smile._

 

_“Black suits ya.” He mused, sitting down next to Red again, scratching behind her ears (she purred very loudly at that). “'So how long have ya known Shiro for?”_

 

_Keith had known Shiro since he was ten, and thanks to him and his mother, he was back in the United States. It took him a while to warm up to Shiro and his mother Aiko, but they were so patient and friendly towards him, and Shiro treated him just like a brother and not just some burden his parents forced onto him. And for once to be treated like that, with people who respected his boundaries and limits, it touched him in a way, and within a month he was warmed up to them enough to speak and hold conversations with them, whether it was over dinner, while doing housework or while watching terrible movies late at night all huddled on the couch. And Shiro, who was seventeen at the time, never once treated him like a kid, that his thoughts and feelings weren't invalid, none of that high pitched 'it's gonna be alright' voice many other adults pulled on him._

 

_“Since I was ten. He was my foster brother.” Keith started. “Him an' his mother are some of th' kindest people I've ever met.”_

 

_His dad nodded. “What about you an' th' paladins, huh? They sound like a handful.”_

 

_He didn't mean it in an offending way, and actually looked like he really wanted to know who his son's family are._

 

_“So we have Shiro, you already know that. He got Hunk, he's both a genius engineer an' a genius cook, an' he comes off as a coward sometimes, but he's brave enough to take a bullet for all of us, trust me, I know. And he has th' best hugs.” Keith reminisced, smiling softly at a mental image of the big man, with a broad grin on his face standing proudly in his yellow paladin armour. “There's Pidge, or Katie Holt. She's th' most badass person I've ever met. Her father an' brother were part of a Garrison mission to Kerberos, where they were abducted by th' Galra with Shiro. The Garrison lied an' said it was pilot error, but she knew it wasn't, so she faked her identity and sneaked into the Garrison to find their files and footage to expose th' Garrison as liars with her hackin' skills. If you ever meet her, don't fuck around with her, because she will kick your ass. She's kicked mine multiple times.” Keith even chuckled at a memory, of underestimating Pidge at hand to hand combat in the training room, and she just served his ass to him on a silver platter. “Lance is a whole other story. He thinks we're rivals for some reason, not so much anymore, but he's always tryin' to prove himself I guess. I would too, he only got into the Garrison fighter class because I was given th' boot, he's been compared to me for so long…” Keith faltered off as he only just realised just how much Lance has put up with. How much that must hurt, being compared to someone else and having their shadow hanging over you for the rest of your career? Fuck, and all he's done was give Lance shit for it when he didn't deserve it. God, Keith felt sick to his stomach. “Actually, Lance is alright, he's...probably th' most underappreciated person I've met. I mean, he's got so much family left behind, an' his achievements never really get any attention...he deserves so much more, an' I never told him just how great of a person he was. None of them, really.”_

 

_Keith stared down at his hands. He needed to get back. He desperately wanted to see them more than ever. His dad seemed to understand that too._

 

_“You miss them.” he stated. Keith nodded in response._

 

_“Dad, I'm sorry, but I gotta get to them.” Keith said in winged words. It hurt, he really really wanted to stay and catch up with his dad, but the next time he dies, he'll be seeing him again, and right now the living needed him-no, he needed the living._

 

_“So you're gonna go?” His dad asked, a little guttered._

 

_“I'm sorry, but I need them, you of all people must understand I-"_

 

_“Son, I do, I'm just disappointed this has ended so soon. There's still so much to talk about.” His dad said, with a half smile on his face. “But I would never do anything to hurt you ever again, Keith.”_

 

_Red stood up, looking regal and strong in the light, pressing her nose against Keith's back, letting him give him one last hug before he left. Keith had his arms around his dad for the last time in a long time, holding as tight as he could as the room grew lighter and everything blurred into a soft light, the room was crumbling away around them into little flecks of light. When keith was done dying, he only wanted to go back._

 

_“See you 'round, Dad.”_

 

_-_

There was just so much blood, too much. But he was finally in the pod, leaning back against the wall, held in place with invisible binds, head tilted back and mouth slightly parted. The glass frosted gradually, leaving just his upper body for viewing, showing the deep gashes and impalements on his body that were still bleeding out, the bloodstained shirt was used as a blanket, and it clung to his waist. Everyone felt that little bit of hope they had in them die as the monitor showed up: no heartbeat, no breathing, and no response.

 

Shiro fell to his knees at Keith's feet, just not believing that his little brother was dead, that they were just too late, that there was nothing that could be d-

 

 _“Wait!”_ Pidge cried out, barely keeping herself upright after losing so much blood. She weakly pointed to the monitor, and a heartbeat, so faint, was sure enough pulsing through the blue line. Barely there, but it was. “He-he's still alive, jus' wait it out for a mom-"

 

Pidge never finished her sentence as she sighed and collapsed to the ground. Hunk and Coran at once had rushed to her, but they seemed a little less worried.

 

“She's just fainted, nothin' too big.” Coran explained, giving a murmured ask to Hunk before heaving her up by the armpits and Hunk taking her ankles. “Just a bit of ol' bedrest should do the trick.”

 

So that just left Allura, Shiro and Lance in the room with Keith in the pod, saying nothing at all. Lance eventually joined Shiro on the ground, leaning back on the stairs and sprawling himself out, while Allura knelt down next to Shiro, a hand on his back. They waited for what felt like forever for his weak heart rate to grow into a level even considered safe. At that, nothing but relief was felt.

 

“He'll take a while, at least a handful of quintents, it's hard to tell at this stage.” Allura cleared up, sighing and ghosting her hand over the frosted glass, no doubt feeling guilty that she was a part of this. “The healing pod can heal external wounds, but this may take years to recover.”

 

Shiro nodded and sat back, crossing his legs. “I'm still not over my time with the Galra, it's hard, nightmares and triggers and everything. But we saw what happened to him, no-one should have to go through that.” Shiro gulped and fidgeted with his fingers. “What we know, he was interrogated, with guilt torture, abuse and rape. Fuck, what's that gonna do to him if he finds out we heard it all? That's gonna take a long long time.”

 

Lance solemnly agreed. “Fuck, I treated Keith like shit when he was still here-"

 

“He treated you like shit as well, don't forget.” Shiro interrupted.

 

“Well, yeah, but that was a while ago, we didn't even apologise for it or anythin'. And now he's…” Lance faltered off. “We just gotta wait this out, wait until he's ready.”

 

~

 

The castle was slowly but surely adapting to Keith's absence.

 

While they searched for the Red Lion with the blade, they avoided large scale missions, just small missions every now and then, but nothing too big. They were not only a paladin, but also a Lion down. And Keith was still clutching what they concluded to be her wires in the healing pod. How long was he holding onto those for? Most likely he was tortured while gripping onto them, so he wouldn't be parting with them quickly.

 

It was Hunk's turn on looking over Keith. They even had a small mattress pulled up in front of the pod, for a bit of comfort other than the floors and also for something when Keith would eventually fall out. He had been improving over the past few weeks: almost all of the metal shards in his body were eventually forced out and on the ground at his feet, and the gashes and impalements had all but sealed up. The only thing that didn't was a gash on his cheekbone that left a thin pale pink scar. Keith still looked shit, but at least it didn't look like he lost a battle with a blender anymore. He'd be here soon.

 

“How about this one, eh? I like this song, what do ya think?” Hunk asked up to his still form, playing a song on his phone, which was currently the only source of light in the hollow chamber, illuminating the frosted glass of the cell and the cool blue steps. A beep from behind him caught his attention, and he shifted onto his knees to check the monitor. Only two dobashes left, just two minutes. Hunk scrambled up and ran to the other side of the room, hands searching for the intercom and the light switches.

 

“Please come to the healing chambers, he's finally here! Guys, he's alright!” Hunk gushed into the speaker, and he was basically overflowing with excitement. Keith was back, he wasn't dead, he was finally, after just so long, here. Coran and Lance were the first to arrive, and the others followed shortly after, all waiting in a semi circle (to give him some space) around Keith's pod with anticipation, anxious and excited.

 

The glass finally started to crumble away, flaking off like leaves in the wind, and Keith felt light-headed. His head spun and his eyes were dazzled with lights, but he felt...fresh? His knees were locked and he stumbled forwards, hands flashing to brace himself against the sides of the pod. Deep breaths. He took in a breath, held it for four seconds, and released it to steady himself. He raised his eyes.

 

All around the pod, in a rough semi circle, they were waiting. His rag-tag family. Oh, they were waiting for him, and they looked just so relieved to see him. They actually went out and fought for him back, they cared about him. Keith felt his mouth go dry and his chest well up with happiness and relief. This wasn't the ship, or his dad's house, this was _home._

 

“Th-thank you-" Keith breathed, but his legs failed and he fell forwards. They caught him.

 

“Keith! You're alive!”

 

“Ohmigodohmigodohmigod-"

 

“You rascal, we missed you so much!”

 

“You wouldn't believe it, I actually missed your mullet.”

 

He was on his knees on the ground, with so many hands supporting and helping him, smiling faces all around him. He didn't even care he was practically naked and swallowed thickly, leaning into to hold them all tightly as he could. The tears ran down his cheeks, and it wasn't just him sobbing tears of happiness.

  
Keith was back, back with his family all around him and loving him, and he was never letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (shamefully uses elements from my other fics in this) this is my longest chapter yet, and I rewrote it a couple of times, so I really want to know what you think! (sorry for sounding so thirsty but I literally thrive on feedback) and sorry it was a little late, but I hope the added length makes up for it (also the recovery begins next chapter and I am so completely hyped for prince Lotor in the next season omg


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly, Keith starts recovering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter needs to be edited majorly, but its been a while since the last update, so I thought I would at least put it out here. Im so sorry if you can tell how much writers block I was on haha

It felt like years before someone finally moved, and Keith felt a thick blanket hit him on the back. He looked up to see Coran standing, giving him a small smile. Keith thanked him and sat up, folding the blanket around him. It almost felt like it was made from wool, being thick and heavy and a charcoal grey. That shirt around his waist wasn't exactly doing much now, wasn't it?

 

“Thank you.” Keith breathed again, balling his fists into the blanket and weakly smiling at them. “So much.” 

 

The others mirrored his smile. 

 

“You're a part of our family, are you not? Family sticks together.” Allura spoke, reaching out to tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear. “We all love you.”

 

For the first time in a while, Keith enjoyed having hands on him, it was nice for hands to not hurt him for once. His left hand had a faint scar running down his thumb, and the scars left over from Traluga's electrocution were still marked on his legs. He's gonna have a lot of scars left over from this, but scars do fade, right?

 

“What about Red?” He asked quietly. The room fell tense a little too quickly.

 

“We haven't found her yet, but the Blade and us are working together to find her.” Shiro cleared up, giving Keith's shoulder a gentle squeeze with his human hand. “But we'll find her soon, and that's final.”

 

Keith looked down at the wires still bundled in his fist, and his grip on them relaxed slightly. They still had small bloodstains on them, but he wouldn't be parting with them anytime soon. They were  _ hers  _ after all. His legs still felt a little off, and so did his shoulders, and he was sure that it wasn't post-pod stiffness that was causing it. Just like with Lance and Shiro, the first thing to do after this was a physical check up in the med bay with Coran. Not the most enjoyable thing to do, but it had to be done. The healing pods were like magic, but even magic has it's faults. He looked back up at Coran and sadly nodded at the man.

 

“I've already woken y'all up, might as well get s'more sleep, huh?” Keith quipped, awkward wording, but they understood what he meant. They all wished him well, with a hug goodbye (and a double check if he needed anything else), they left him on the mattress, the blanket curled around him, with Coran.

 

“You already know what's to be done, don't you?” Coran finally murmured. Keith nodded, standing up with a grunt. His legs still felt off, like something was not quite right. Muscle damage? Maybe? His balance was wobbly, and Coran hooked an arm around his back to support him. Keith murmured a quick thanks and with Coran at his side, made their way down to the med bay.

 

The med bay, despite being in it hundreds of times, still gave that vibe of the nurses' office back at every school, down to the charts on the walls and the two beds lined up against the walls. A bench and sink was in the tight corner of the room, cupboards lining the walls. The room also had that faint smell of disinfectant and the white lights seemed to be fluorescent. While Coran went to pull out a pair of gloves from one of the many cupboards, Keith made his way to one of the beds, bare feet slapping on the linoleum floor, and sat on the edge. His legs did look a little misshapen at the middle of his thighs, right where the poles were forced through the skin and bone. Coran seemed to notice it too, and looked at him sadly.

 

“I know this is quick, but I need to touch you, is that alright?” He asked, ever so polite.

 

“Knock yourself out.” Keith replied, sitting back against the wall and hitching up the blanket a little. 

 

Coran almost seemed to be massaging his flesh, dried blood and slick flaking off, searching for something wrong, he seemed to find it when he pressed onto a knob of bone, and Keith winced back.

 

“Right here. Were you placed in a pod on those ships?”

 

Keith had no reason to lie. “For a bit, just so I wouldn't die.”

 

Coran nodded and sighed deeply. “This hasn't healed properly by the feel of it, I'll have to take a scan to be sure.”

 

Coran looked at him in question, and Keith nodded back. Coran left and came back a minute later with an instrument that looked a lot like a barcode scanner, but he was pulling a stand behind him, one with a screen on it. He must have noticed Keith looking at it.

 

“It's just a tad old, but it'll do.” Coran explained, crouching down again and pressing the scanner to his thigh, it clicked once, and the screen flickered on. Black and white, like an x-ray. What was once streamlined bone now had a bumpy knob in the middle of it, and after a check on the other one, it only confirmed that it was indeed from the bars. Coran frowned at the images. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how uncomfortable is it?”

 

Keith already knew what a perfect ten was, so he held up three fingers.

 

“Keith, I know when you're lying.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes and held up a four, a more accurate point.

 

“Well, some minor surgery can be done to shave the bone a little, I can imagine it would be a nuisance after a while. When would you like it done?” Coran asked, twirling his moustache out of habit. Keith just shrugged.

 

“Whenever's a good time.” He gave in. Coran just laughed a little.

 

“Of course. So tomorrow?”

 

Keith mirrored his gentle smile and nodded.

 

The next checks were just more scans, on his chest, abdomen and back. Even though this technology was considered ancient to Alteans, it still never failed to amaze Keith about the differences in their ideas of new and old. Hell, this was like an x-ray machine without the radiation risk, and it was portable! Even the top doctors back on Earth were barely in the prototype stages of it. And it didn't scan just bones, but organs and tissue as well. Talk about two birds one stone. But it didn't stop his gut from twisting, because once they found out about the nature of his injuries he would have to come clean. Coran had the screen angled towards him, looking...perplexed about something.

 

“I've never seen  _ this  _ before.” Coran murmured, looking like he was trying to piece together some kind of puzzle. Keith had to know, even though his head begged him not too, and leaned forward, getting a better view. Coran noticed and swung the screen around. “You see this? Human on the outside, Galra on the inside! Not something you see everyday!”

 

Count on Coran to get excited over this and not disgusted. “Keith, do human medicines work on you?”

 

“In very high doses they do.” Keith answered, almost remembering the one time Shiro thought he was trying to kill himself when he downed ten painkillers and made him cough them all back up. No, he would never do that, and he got some pretty good blackmail on Shiro for it too. Shiro cried so much Keith had to reassure him that he wasn't dying any time soon.

 

“Strange, because you see here? All Galran organs, just arranged like a human's.” Coran continued, “look at this-" Coran pointed to a lump next to his heart, identical but just smaller, “-humans don't have two hearts, right? Even though the second one is almost completely useless, you still have it alright.”

 

Two hearts? Wow, Keith really needed to review some sort of Galran medical books for this, being lost in the dark on this subject. Actually, there was a lot about himself he didn't exactly know about, apart from the fact he had purple eyes, impressive strength for his size and too much body hair (well, he didn't now). Maybe the castle's library had some records or books on it or something.

 

“So you're sayin' I'm human on th' outside, Galra on the inside.” Keith concluded.

 

“Correct. That's not the only thing: denser bones, a uterus, sensitivity to quinte-"

 

Wait, what? No, he must have heard it wrong. 

 

“Sorry Coran, say that again?” Keith apologised, folding his arms, pinching at the skin of his inner elbow.

 

Coran thankfully didn't seem fussed. “Denser bones, a uterus, s-"

 

“Yeah, stop there.” Keith interrupted, holding a hand up. “You sure about that? I'm a guy, you know that.”

 

Of course Keith was confused, none of this was making sense. Coran seemed to be in a helpful mood at least.

 

“Well, you're still male, of course. For Galrans however, women are not as common, at least in appearance, barely making up a quarter of the entire Galra population. Many males have the ability to carry young as well to make up for it.” Coran explained, and flicked around a screen. “You see here? Both types of organs, completely normal for Galra.”

 

This just made Keith squeamish. It was bad enough knowing that he'd be going under invasive surgery so soon after everything that happened, now this? Wait, what if he was-? No. Nonononon-

 

“On the bright side, your outer appearance is human, so you won't be carrying young ones anytime soon. No offense by the way, but it is a relief. Especially after-” Coran cut himself off and just got back to checking Keith's shoulder for any other lumps of bone not reset properly.

 

Why would Coran cut himself off like that? Oh.  _ Oh.  _ They weren't telling him something. Keith hated to exploit, but this was his business too, he needed to know. Keith stiffened and cupped his hand over Coran's to stop him.

 

“Coran, what do you mean, 'especially after'?” Keith chewed out. He really really didn't want to seem like he was cornering Coran, but he needed to know, God, he had to know.

 

He caught Coran in a creek without a paddle at this point, who sighed and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

 

“Keith, we know what happened to you out there.” Coran confessed, holding Keith's eye contact for a bit before looking away. 

 

“Did Red somehow get to you and tell you all? Please, I have to know.” Keith pleaded, now getting desperate. Whatever they were hiding, it was big.

 

“Stars, we should really have discussed this before you got out...Keith, we know because we heard.” He answered, swallowing thickly, holding Keiths hands in his own. Almost like how his mother did back on the ship. “When you were being tortured and interrogated, they made tapes. No picture, they at least blocked that, but they didn't block the audio. We suspect that it was to encourage us to turn ourselves in, or your torture would go on. We would rather have saved you and the Red Lion than give the universe's greatest hope to the greatest enemy, I'm sure you understand.”

 

Keith nodded. If he was in their situation, he would do the same, as much as he would have hated it. 

 

“How much did you hear?”

 

Coran hesitated but relented. “Everything.”

 

It was like a bullet just passed through his chest. Of course, they wanted to hear him  _ scream.  _ And so they did. They heard it all: his helplessness, his humiliation and wet sobs and begs for mercy. Fuck, they heard it all, they heard it all.  _ They heard it all. _

 

Keith swallowed and looked down at his hands. How could they even  _ look  _ at him the same? It was bad enough for his mother to see him like that, and that his father knew about it-- no one should see their child in that situation, and it was six times worse that they all heard it. No, too much, way too much, this couldn't have happened, this couldn't have this-

 

“Keith?  _ Keith!?”  _ Coran had Keith's face cupped in his hands, holding eye contact with worried eyes. “I’m sorry! Please!”

 

Keith didn't even realise he was crying, just that his face felt hot, his heartbeat in his ears drained out everything else and wet tears formed a glassy film over his vision. Fuck, not again. He gulped at stared at Coran with wide eyes.

 

“Oh stars, Keith-" Coran breathed, pulling him in for a firm hug. Keith wetly sniffed and hugged him back, sobbing quietly on his shoulder. Coran even seemed to be humming a tune in a language he would never learn, rubbing circles on his back, sorta like he was comforting a distressed child. Keith was just thankful. It was bad enough he'd cried more in the last week than in his entire life so far, and he needed his friends and rag-tag family more than ever. “I've done the worst of it, how 'bout we get some rest, hm? I can operate tomorrow, I'm sure we'd both like that.”

 

Keith just nodded, letting Coran help him up. Fuck his legs, they really did a number on him back there, didn't they? If he was gonna have to spend the rest of his life on a crutch, he'd rather be dead.

 

His room was almost just as he left it, apart from a few things obviously shuffled around. His bed was still messy, but with the sheets and pillows tossed around a bit, and some of his few belongings had been shifted. Not that it mattered of course, if anything, he was just wondering why they even wanted to go in his room when it smelt of sweat and unwashed shirts. Keith thanked Coran, and when Coran seemed convinced that Keith could walk for a bit by himself, he left him be. Flopping down on his bed was like heaven after a week on a floor, not as good as his bed back at the shack, but it was nice to just go completely slack in something that felt and smelt familiar. He didn't even bother putting on clothes, it was lights out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

~

 

_ Purple light. Cold floor. Chains. Traluga. A knife pressed to the nape of his neck and the prick of the edge against his spine- _

 

Keith had never woken up faster. His heartbeat thudded in his ears, hands scrambling for the back of his neck because that felt just a bit too real-

 

No, just a dream. Just a dream. He was fine. A little sweaty and a little shaken, but fine. Fingertips brushed over the slim scar there, barely even noticeable, and he sighed deeply. Just a dream, he repeated in his head over and over.

 

Reaching under his pillow, he gripped Red's wires in his hand, holding it to his chest.

 

_ “Night terrors?”  _ She asked.

 

“Yeah.” Keith whispered back. Warmth surrounded him and it almost felt like she was curling around him protectively.

 

_ “It's going to take a while for you to get back to sleep.”  _ Red speculated.  _ “Perhaps you should do something to pass the time? Get your mind off it for a bit.” _

 

Keith sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “Then what do you think I should do?”

 

_ “You haven't talked to the others in a while, how about you catch up with them?”  _

 

Time was barely a concept on the Castle, but there was always someone up, no matter what time it could be. Keith took a shaky breath and hugged the pillow to his chest a little tighter, curling up around it. He really didn't want to be alone right now, sure, Red was with him, but that wasnt the same. But who would be up? Definitely not Lance, he loved his beauty sleep. Allura and Coran were already working hard enough without him knocking on their doors...Pidge might be. Hell, the little gremlin survived on a little less than two hours of sleep per night they were all sure. Rolling out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cool floor and pain jolted his legs, he tugged on a pair of shorts and a loose grey shirt he borrowed (not stole, he'd give it back eventually) from Shiro. The doorplate made a small beep, but the door slid open soundlessly. The hallways at 'night' always had an eerie sort of feel to them, but a sliver of light cracked out from under the Green Paladin's door. He knew it. Keith smiled to himself and tiptoed over, hesitating before knocking on the door twice. A faint yelp and the clutter of something only proved the woman was still up. Three footsteps later and the door opened. Keith blinked a few times at the sudden rush of light and wiped his eyes, but sure enough Pidge was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She was wearing tropical patterned bike shorts and an oversized green hoodie, her hair held back with a couple of clips, looking tired but with a determined look that gave off 'don't tell me to sleep I know what I'm doing' vibes.

 

“'Sup Keith.” She said finally.

 

“Hey Pidge.” He replied, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. Why did he feel awkward like this? Pidge is his best friend to him, nothing was ever too awkward between them.

 

“So you wanna come in? I got some spare food goo left an' way too many X-Files theories I've had no-one to share with.” She invited, giving a small smile and allowing Keith to step in.

 

Pidge's room was the most lived-in out of all of them. Pidge was a very messy hoarder, and it showed alright: clothes, trinkets, paper and various bits of tech were all scattered throughout the room, to the point where they almost had to use compasses and maps to navigate around her junk. Keith slumped on an Altean version of a bean bag next to her bed, while she hopped back onto her mattress, tapping away at her laptop.

 

“Couldn't sleep?” She asked. Keith nodded. “Me neither.”

 

She snorted and continued tapping away at her laptop, when a buzzing caught their attention, and she picked up her phone, unplugging it from her laptop and dropping it on the ground next to her. So she had a phone charger the entire time!? Damnit, Keith's own phone ran out months ago, and he just kept it tucked away in one of his hipbags when he was certain no-one had a charger with them. So what if the screen was cracked and the sides were held together with silver duct tape and a dirtied purple gel case? It still had three hours worth of music on it, and back when he was still in his desert shack, music was the best way to pass the time.

 

“Pidge? Mind if I borrow your charger?”

 

She just shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”

 

Keith quickly left the room, grabbed a hipbag, and came back with it, plugging his phone into her laptop. It also just so happened to be the hipbag with a few bits of jewelry still left in it. Not a few bits, actually more like a good fortunes worth. She noticed it too when he dumped his bag out on her bed in an effort to find his phone.

 

“Jesus christ.” She murmured, staring dumbfounded at his collection. 

 

If anything, he was a little flattered she paid so much attention to it. A collection of precious metals and stones, all just conveniently tucked away into a tan leather bag. Picking around the pile, he fished out a ring and pressed it into her palm.

 

Keith wasn't as oblivious as many thought him to be, and just seeing her face light up at that made something stir in him, something warm and full, hard to describe, but seeing his friends happy made him happy.

 

“Keith, how did ya even get this!?” She chirped, holding it up to the light, inspecting the ring. It was a shiny rose gold, with a string of tiny diamonds along the band, that twinkled in the light and caught every colour.

 

“You wanna know?” As if he wouldn't pass up a chance to talk about his collection. She nodded and kept looking at it.

 

“Back in the desert, I did a lotta odd jobs. Didn't get much money, sometimes didn't even get paid in cash. There's this flea market every month in Arizona I found, cheap stuff and supplies. Found a stall selling metals an' this thing was blackened, I was just looking for a handlebar ring for the hoverbike, an' got it for five bucks with a small bottle of polish. Just my luck that after a week of polishin' I found the gold an' finished it off. Even got it verified, pure diamond an' gold, but because I have no control over my life I turned down th' chance to sell it an' just kept it.” He explained. He couldn't part with it for an unreasonable price, he spent so much time making it look good, and it was just very shiny. Shiny things always caught his eye for some reason. “Here-" Keith whispered, taking Pidge's hand and fitting it on her middle finger. It was a little loose, but it looked nice on her hand. Delicate, yet strong as diamonds.

 

“Dude, I'm not even one for these sorta things, but this's so cool.” she spoke honestly. Turning her hand so it could catch the light.

 

“I got plenty more where that came from.” Keith just teased back, letting her look around his stash. She pulled up a necklace this time, one with a silver chain with an oval shaped pendant of a green, white and pink gem, roughly the size of her thumbnail.

 

“So what's this one? Sorta looks like watermelon if you ask me.” She joked.

 

“Watermelon tourmaline, almost right. Got that one while I was workin' under th' table at a labour farm. My employer, because he couldn't give me money, gave me things like food an' water instead, but on my last day he said he didn't have anymore money, but he could give his late wife's necklace an' I could probably sell it for some cash. It belonged to his dead wife, so I refused, but he insisted an' basically put it on my neck.” Keith gushed. He still remembered that day, how that farmer (despite technically employing Keith for illegal work) was always so nice towards him. This farmer was very old and frail last time he saw him, he was probably dead now, but what would he say if he discovered that Keith had cleaned and cared for that necklace for the good part of two years now?

 

“Wait, isn't wearing a dead woman's jewelry some sort of bad luck omen or somethin'? Like, you wear her jewelry, an' supposedly you'd die in the same way as her?” Pidge snickered.

 

“She lived to an old age, in this situation I hope I get her end.” Keith laughed. He tried not to think of his death, he had just gotten into a good mood after all.

 

Pidge pried around the pile again, pulling out another ring, this one had a dainty silver band with a single light green chunk of peridot, cut like a rose, embedded in the band. It fit snugly over her index finger, and she twisted it a couple of times for good measure.

 

“How about this one?”

 

Actually, Keith had no idea the exact story behind that one, all he knew was that it was something his dad had shoved in a brown paper bag when he left for the orphanage. 

 

“No idea.” He stated. Pidge didn't seem to take that for an answer though. She pouted a little and presented it to him again.

 

“C'mon, anything? It must've come into your possession somehow.” She insisted.

 

“I mean, I don't know th' story behind it. When I was left at the orphanage, it was in my bag, my dad must've put it in there.” He answered with a sigh. It looked good on her hand though, and green was her colour after all. And because this was Pidge, it wouldn't be gone forever. She always kept an astounding track of her trinkets and junk. “Keep it.”

 

Her head snapped up and she gave him a horrified look. “What?  _ No!  _ Keith, this was your  _ dad's,  _ this is yours I can't-" She stumbled over her words, trying to twist it off, but he closed his hand around hers.

 

“No, please, it's a lot safer with you, an' you're my best friend. I want you to have it.” Keith insisted, half smiling to reassure her. “Besides, green is your colour.”

She snickered and batted her hand at that, but she didn't try to give it back.

“Well, if you insist, but it's always here if you need it.” Pidge thanked. “And I thought my collection of pokemon cards was impressive.” she added as an afterthought. 

“Pokemon cards an' jewelry are two very different things.” Keith bounced back. “What cards you got?”

Pidge smiled curtly, the corners of her lips curling up like a cat's. “Caught 'em all.” To be honest, that didn't surprise Keith at all. “Just don't tell Lance, I know he has his eyes on my Rayquaza. An' from my memory Hunk was missin' an Alteria, but I could be mistaken...nah, I'm never wrong, he's missin' an Alteria. He doesn't seem like th' one to steal pokemon cards, but I ain't takin' any chances.”

Keith made the gesture of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. She seemed to accept that, and flashed him a look before tapping away at her laptop, reaching into her pocket to pull out a teal blue lanyard, swinging it on her finger and making whatever was on the end clack together.

“By the way, still like cliche cartoons? 'Coz I gotta bunch already downloaded on these babies with no-one to watch 'em with.” Pidge stopped swinging them, letting the lanyard hang, letting two usbs, one purple and one silver, one with a cap and the other on a swivel, click together. A keychain of a silver fish skeleton and a small pink pompom hung off it, and three keys tinged together. Even in space, Pidge still kept her keys in her pocket, by the looks of it: a house key, a key to a vehicle (she was sixteen, she probably had a learner's licence back home and a key to her mom's car) and a tiny key probably for a safe or something. “I got too many trashy eighties cartoons an' a few seasons of Steven Universe, so you in?”

“How trashy are those eighties cartoons?” Keith would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for those, watching things like Thundercats and Scooby Doo on Saturday mornings back at the orphanage with the other kids was one of the highlights of his childhood.

“Pfft, Silverhawks? Ducktales?” 

“I'm in.”

Pidge shuffled over to wedge herself next to the wall, lending half of her bed to Keith, who quickly uttered a thanks. She didn't point out that he stunk of blood and sweat, or she just didn't notice. Right now, he just needed to completely switch off his head, and if focusing on technicolour cartoons sitting next to a good friend in a cramped bed late at night solved that, then it'll do. Pidge plugged them in, and a crackly theme song started to play.

“Used to watch these wi' my brother, y'know?” Pidge confided. “We used to just sit on our parent's bed on Saturday mornin's, an' just watch whatever was on. Like kids, y'know? Sure, I was four an' he was twelve, but it was just somethin' we did, get me?”

It wasn't hard to imagine, the Holt kids sitting in a bed too big for them, watching a tiny screen at seven thirty on a Saturday morning, always the ones where the hero wins and bad guys lose, nearly always set in space. Oh how the tables have turned, now they were supposed to be the heroes fighting off the bad guys. But not really, Keith knew they had their fair share in the slaughter-

No, not tonight. Tonight was for letting loose, not worrying about a body count.

“I get ya.” Keith answered. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and flashed a half smile, letting him lean on her shoulder as they silently watched, dimming the lights so the only light in the room was from her screen.

~

Eleven episodes in of some space cyborg police cops running around, Keith could barely keep his eyes open. But it was a good kind of tired, actually forcing himself to stay up instead of  _ being  _ forced to stay up, it just felt like a little more control over the shitstorm that is his life.

“You okay?” He heard Pidge ask. He glanced over to her, and she was stretching her arms above her head, yawning deeply.

“Yeah, you?”

She was silent for a bit. “I'll go to sleep if you do.”

Couldn't argue with that. But here was nice, and he really didn't like the thought of going back to his own bed. It was lonely there.

“Yeah, it's getting...early?” Keith questioned. A snort lightly jolted him, and Pidge chuckled.

“It's like, almost three am.” She snickered, she seemed to get that he didn't want to go back. “Y'can stay here if ya want, just puttin' that out there.” Pidge offered, leaning over him to slide her laptop and glasses on the ground, tugging the blanket in a gesture for him to get under the covers. 

“Thanks Pidge.”

“Don't mention it.”

He shivered when her bare foot touched his, but she chuckled. It was infectious and it caught on, just two fools sharing a bed and trying to hide their snorts.

“Oh my god this is stupid.” Pidge laughed. “I gotta warn ya, I'm a bed hog.”

Keith just snorted and splayed his arms out. “Guess we're th' same person.”

“Agreed. G'night Keith.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Pidge pulled the blankets up to their chests and she curled up next to him, knee resting on his hip, both just lying there in the dark.

“Hey Keith? You ever been spooned before?”

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't born under a rock, he knew what it was.

“Nope.” He replied, popping his 'p'.

“No hetero, but can we spoon bro?” She joked back.

Keith just snorted and had to cover his mouth at that. But hey, why not?

“No hetero.” He confirmed and rolled onto his side, curling up and letting Pidge hug him from behind, hooking an arm over his chest and pressing her forehead into his hair.

“Much better, no hetero, bro. Just bros being bros.” She repeated, though he knew she was joking around with him.

“Yeah, no hetero, g'night Pidge.”

“G'night Keith. Man, you're cuddly.” The small woman confirmed, resting against him.

He had to admit, this was nice, and it was much easier to sleep like this. Sleep came so easy.

~

Keith was never a morning person. And thank god no alarms were blaring into his ears. With eyes sealed shut with sleep, he just pulled the blankets up a little higher and sighed a little deeper. A slim leg had curled around his hip, and an arm hooked over his chest held him close. This was far better than waking up from a nightmare. Pidge's slow heartbeat bumped against his back, and her breath was warm on the nape of his neck.  

The woman groaned and stretched out, before curling back up into him.

“Mornin' Keith.” She groaned, yawning and rolling over, pulling away from him. Well, there goes his back warmer. Reluctantly, he rolled onto his back and stretched out, yawning like she did.

“Mmm...mornin'." He slurred back, sinking into the bed. Fuck, he hadn't even gotten a shower since stepping foot onto the ship, these sheets would definitely need a wash if the dried blood and fluid on him hadn't already flaked off during the night. Ultra respect to Pidge for even allowing him into her room with the filthy state he was in, much less share her bed. “Waz th' time?”

She groaned and leaning over him, checking her phone. “Nine twenty-three am Castle time, almost midnight Earth time.”

Wow, almost midnight back on Earth? And to think he was just waking up. Earth was so far away. Would he even see it again? Because going back to Earth for a bit would be nice. Even if it was just for five minutes.

“And no offense, but y'really need a shower.” Pidge commented, screwing up her nose.

“None taken.” Keith sighed back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. Dried blood was in cracked rivers on his legs, small parts from where it flaked off during the night. “Hey, uh, can ya help me up? My legs are still shit.”

She just shrugged and rolled off the bed, taking his hands and pulling him up. God he was  _ starving.  _ And his legs still hurt, but it settled into more of a dull ache. Since she didn't seem to mind, Pidge would be his crutch for now, and he helped him out of the room and down the hallways.

“You think th' med bay has some sort of alien wheelchair or somethin'?” She mused. They both got the idea at the same time.

Two minutes and two hundred metres later, Keith was sitting on one of the medbay beds, watching as Pidge searched the cupboards and every nook and cranny for something even remotely similar to a wheelchair, finally looking in a wide cabinet to find something old and rickety. A hoverchair of sorts. It was odd looking, like a literal hovering seat with a bar handle to push it if there was noone to, and it reminded him of a dentist chair, and a little bit of tinkering at least made it into an upright position, but it was better than having to take painkillers just to  _ walk. _

“Let’s try this one.” Pidge suggested and helped him onto it. It was a relief, truly. A small ball on the armrest counted as a control of sorts, but Pidge was already pushing him down the hallway with the handles. His legs were dangling down, swinging with every movement. This hoverchair seemed like a lot of fun for joyrides. Instead of taking two minutes down the hallway, it was just two seconds with Pidge riding on the back of it like a supermarket trolley.

Coran wouldn't mind.

At the kitchen, Lance and Hunk were sitting at the bench, empty bowls of food goo pushed to the side and murmuring, from the smiles on their faces, it had to be something funny. Lance was the first to notice, glancing over Hunks shoulder at the pair with matching eyebags. 

“Well good mornin' lovebirds.” Lance snickered with a light-hearted smirk.

“Dude you know th' day I go straight is th' day I'll be dead.“ Pidge joked back. “Mornin' guys.”

Keith just waved at them, getting a couple back.

“Well, you still look like shit.” Lance poked at Keith jokingly.

“And you've never looked better.” Keith bounced. “You guys seen Red at all?”

Hunk shook his head. “Sorry, but no sign of her yet. The Blade is also workin' on findin' her with their inside agents and moles, but there's only so many of them and too many ships. At least we have you.” Hunk smiled sadly. “Hungry? Th' food goo tastes sorta like basil now, no idea why, I haven't been tinkering with it.”

Even food goo sounded like haute cuisine after being force fed through tubes. Even though Keith could barely remember the names of the herbs he's eaten, if it tasted like something from Earth, he trusted it. Hunk neatly balanced four bowls on his arms, taking seconds for him and Lance.

“Thanks Hunk.” Keith answered, and he never thought that he would be missing just having breakfast with the others late in the morning. “What about Voltron? This whole 'savin' th' universe' thing I mean.”

Lance held up a hand and finished his mouthful. “We're on break! Sorta...okay, not really, Allura hates it being called that--but until you rest up a bit an' Red is back, we're just easing outta the 'saving the universe' stuff for now. Jus' small jobs every now an' then can do it.”

Of course, Keith felt a little guilty and even a little horrified that they would just stop and put everything on hold for him and Red, but with just how rested everyone looked after an actual full night's sleep, he decided that it was probably for the best. And it would be difficult to fight a Galra battalion in a wheelchair with his legs out of action. Keith looked behind him to see Coran at the door.

It's the little things that count, right?

~

Never would Keith ever feel happy to be knocked out unconscious and wake up different. 

Blurry lights danced before his eyes as he slowly but surely woke up, the hum of the castle had replaced the faint ringing in his ears and he feel loopy, but so light. Just like sleeping on a cloud. Once he was sure he could sit up without feeling too lightheaded, Keith grunted and propped himself up on his elbows, wiping his face and staring down at his legs, currently concealed with a white sheet that left his feet and shin exposed. The trickle of water at the corner of the room averted his gaze, and he looked up to see Coran, still in a full surgeon's uniform, pouring a glass of water. Said man looked up at Keith and grinned.

“Feel better? Not trying to boast, but I think I did it pretty well! Considering I've never operated on humans before." He started, tightly turning off the tap and walking over, handing Keith the glass of water. 

Keith murmured a thanks and took a sip, giving it back and twitching his toes. Well, that worked. He hitched the blanket up and...were these even his legs? What was once marked with heavy and bumpy scars were reduced to mere scratches, and where they were operated on only left a neat little line. Normally he wouldn't mind scars, but he honestly just wanted to erase every memory of the ships from his sight. Keith just stared at his skin dumbfounded, tilting and flexing it just to be sure that it was real. Even the dried blood was gone, and his skin felt softer, renewed like a baby's.

“Well?” Coran eagerly asked, fidgeting with his fingers.

Keith just got up out of bed, actually standing unsupported, and gave him a hug.

~

Showers were like a luxury back at his desert shack, as he only had one once a month back then. Sometimes he'd take the hoverbike down to a lake or a river and indulge in a skinny dip at dusk, but other than that, he was filthy for most of the time. His shack had a shower, one with corroded handles and a broken tile in the corner he always ended up staring at, and his shower was often shared with one or two drowning spiders. It only worked with a bucket filled with tiny holes hooked onto the shower head, and he'd just hope he wouldn't smash his head on it.

The showers in the castle were a bit different to the ones on Earth (or at least the ones he knew about), having water spill down from the ceiling itself, sorta like a waterfall without the heavy pressure. His one had electronic soap dispensers on the walls, one had a minty scented gel, one dispensed some sort of oil (whatever that was used for), and the other had some sort of Altean shampoo that smelt like nothing. Still, it was luxury compared to home. If there was one flaw about his shack it was definitely the plumbing, part of the reason he was no stranger to pissing outside. 

It was weird, watching what was left of the dried blood gush down the drain, leaving red ribbons in the water that clung to his feet. Feeling clean was pure bliss. Must have been around twenty minutes he just spent in there scrubbing his skin raw and staring at his feet. But then again, the water was warm and he knew that as soon as he stood out he would just be cold again. His little battle of will took about five minutes.

Funnily enough, almost as soon as he was dried off, he shoved on a pair of training leggings and ran straight for the training room barefoot. Even just feeling the air whip his hair and face, the sting of his foot on the polished ground, it was nothing short of exhilarating being back in control. No more chains, no more dark rooms here. Right as he was about to rush through the door, a hand darted out and halted him.

“Nope.” Lance stated, popping his 'p'. “Shiro's orders, I quote: 'Keith needs plenty of rest an' no trainin' deck', ask him yourself.”

Keith sighed loudly through his nostrils. It did sound like something Shiro would do though, but training was what got him completely focused on one thing, making everything else a blur, and boy did he have a lot of forgetting to do.

“Lance, I'm fine, let me through.” Keith pressured, pushing against his arm, but damn Lance had a fair bit of muscle and strong will in him.

“No, Keith. I agree with Shiro, y'went through--a lot out there, an' if there's one thing he knows-"

“I know Lance. I know about th' recordings.” Keith sighed. Lance's face fell at that, wide eyed and lips parting slightly. 

“Shit...y'know about that?”

Keith nodded. “Coran told me everything, now let me past.” he said firmly and shouldered the door, but Lance yanked him back with his hands gripping his shoulders.

“Nope, not so fast tiger, but if you wanna spar, I'm all in. Just don't tell Shiro.” Lance bounced back with a wink. “Never thought I'd miss gettin' my ass handed to me by you.”

Sure, Lance may be a marksman, and Keith didn't have his bayard with them, but the castle always had a good supply of sparring weapons. 

“You're on, sharpshooter.” Keith quipped back, and Lance's sly grin said it all.

The training deck had a larger than life collection of weapons, hundreds of rifles and bows, and more than enough daggers and swords. But if quarrelling over trivial things did anything, it only settled a fair fight, with towels wrapped around their fists in place of boxing gloves (something the Alteans for some reason did not have).

“Alright, ground rules: rule number one, absolutely no face punches, I mean c'mon, this-" Lance pointed to his face to make his point “-takes effort, not screwin' this beauty up. Rule number two, no dick punches, Keith I'm lookin' at you-"

“What? Why me, exactly?” Keith interrupted with his eyebrows furrowed.

“-because you punched Shiro in th' dick a few months ago an' we all thought he was gon' die, remember?”

Oh yeah, that. But that was on  _ accident,  _ they were sparring and Keith just had to fall flat on his back and spring up off the ground with his fist back in the air. It wasn't pretty. But it was an  _ accident,  _ him and Shiro were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Keith rolled his eyes but continued listening.

“And finally, rule number three, if we gotta stop, we gotta stop. This's just practise, remember? Not space olympics.” Lance concluded.

Keith was ready for this, cracking his knuckles and balling the white towelette around his fists, taking a darting step forwards, swinging his fist to meet Lance's boney shoulder.

“Ow! You lil'-” Lance cried out, ducking Keith's next punch and flinching back before clipping Keith's bicep with a well-aimed hook. 

Another swing, another bruise, a slip-up and a hand up. Honestly, fighting and fun did not go together, but in Keith's book that wasn't a problem. He could do this all day.

~

Unsurprisingly, Keith was the first to cop out, but not until his bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat and his chest was heaving. Just a week easily put him out of shape, huh? But Lance looked completely tired out as well. No-one won or lost, it was just for fun, and bruises are just souvenirs, right? 

Keith glanced up at Lance, who was lying spread-eagled on the floor, hair sticky with sweat and his shirt drenched, but he still had a wide smile on his face. Lance got in a few good hits as well, and he was sure he'd have a bright bruise or two on his shoulders in a while.

“Wow...y'really held out.” Keith breathed, joining Lance on the floor.

“Says you.” Lance snickered back. “I'm not gonna feel my hands for a month, y'know that?”

Keith just laughed breathily back, still gasping for air on the floor. They didn't even hear the door open behind them.

“-en c'mon, they gotta be…” The voice faltered and the footsteps stopped as Keith just  _ knew  _ Hunk was looking at them. “Oh man, you guys alright?”

Keith peered out of the corner of his eye at Hunk, who had crouched down to inspect Lance's arm, who giggled and said something along the lines of 'are you my ma or somethin'?'

“Yeah, peachy.” Keith replied, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his knuckles. After barely ten minutes of sparring, he was already knackered. 

Hunk was just smiling, bewildered. “Shoulda known you'd be here.” he murmured. “Anyway, Pidge has just-"

_ “All paladins to the main bridge for an incoming message.“  _ The intercom interrupted with Allura's voice. Hunk just shrugged.

“Well, it can wait, needa hand?” Hunk said, holding out a hand for both of them, pulling them to their feet with almost minimal effort.

  
  


Turns out the Blade might have a lead on the Red lion, and they had a few other things they wanted to sort out in person. But with the Red lion gone, they had to trust Blue to stay cool in the heat. It was just a day's mission, nothing too hard or serious, right? What's the harm in a bit of diplomacy?

-

The Marmora base was just as Keith remembered it the first time, dimly lit corridors and ceilings so tall they seemed to blend into the sky. Blue had managed to get to the base in one piece thankfully, though it did wear her out a bit, and Lance did say she needed to rest up for a bit, he didn't want to hurt his lady.

Kolivan was there, the only one with his face uncovered, and he stepped forward to greet them with a hand on his chest.

“Paladins, it is good to see you're all in one piece.” He inquired, standing tall. “And you, Keith, I understand the Red Lion has been destroyed, yes?”

Keith flinched a bit at that. She wasn't gone, hell, she was literally with him all the time now, always there in the back of his head. Her body? Yes. He nodded once.

“At least you know too. We think we may have a lead on where it is, according to a spy who has suspicions, but until they are sure that what they see is indeed the Red Lion, we will have to wait.” Kolivan sighed. “We apologise for not finding your lion.”

Why were they apologising for this? “No need for apologies, but I do have a request.”

This time, Shiro and Lance whipped their heads around to stare at him, confused and staring at his incredulously. 

“The spy who gave coordinates of my location, her name is Bolormaa.” Keith continued, “she told me she was my mother, I have every right to believe her.”

Keith swallowed thickly, his throat dry and just at the thought of requesting something so huge after they've already done so much for him...wasn't he just being selfish? Just like Haggar said? All in a rush, Red was instantly wrapping around his mind, soothing and comforting, just like a mother.

_ “My cub, speak.”  _ She commanded. Keith balled his hand into a fist and continued.

“I would like to meet her. Technically I already have, but it wasn't in the best circumstance.” Keith concluded. He raised his eyes to meet a silent room, Lance and Shiro staring at him with their jaws slacked, and he could just feel the shock coming over the Castle's coms. Kolivan stared at him with an unreadable expression.

“We knew she had a child, and she spent a handful of years on Earth...it could be possible. We will ask her if she would like to meet you properly.” Kolivan decided. “Do not keep your hopes up, it may not be possible.”

But there was a chance they could meet properly, and if there was a chance, Keith was willing to take it. Even Red was purring at that, and if anything, it was like the sun coming out.

“Thank you.” Keith replied, and he really meant it.

~

“Keith, what was that about?” Lance asked for everyone once they were heading back. “Like, who is this Bolormaa exactly?”

Shiro nodded and looked to Keith, and Lance would probably be too if he wasn't piloting Blue. Then again, Keith barely knew her as well. All that he knew was that she claimed to be his mother, and was exceptionally gentle and kind with him back when he was prisoner on the ship. She wouldn't just say that to fuck with his head or anything, would she?

“You already know, she claimed to be my mother.” Keith curtly answered. Lance looked up at him flatly, silently egging Keith on. “Back on the ships, they always sent in a servant or someone to give me water, she was a nurse on the hospital ship. She was th' one who gave me that shirt.”

_ “Hospital ship? When was--oh.” _ Hunk cut himself off, realising that Keith probably met her in...not the best circumstances.  _ “Did she-?” _

“Yeah, she saw everything.” Keith answered. God, he felt awful for her. 

_ “She told you after?”  _ Allura asked.  _ “How is she even sure that you are indeed her son?” _

“A DNA sample, they collected some blood an' hair from me. She must've had a part in analysing it somehow.” Keith explained. “All I know is that both of my parents aren't dead, I still have some family left apart from you guys.”

Shiro smiled warmly at him at that, and Lance gave him a wink. Yeah, they were family. 

_ “So what? You really wanna meet her?”  _ Pidge asked.  _ “Because I haven't even met her, but I like this woman. Send pics.” _

“Pidge, please don't thirst after Keith's mother.” Shiro sighed.

_ “Dude, you know I'm joking.”  _ Pidge laughed back.  _ “But really, that's amazing. I mean, what are the chances of findin' your mom out here?” _

One in a million.

~

It was three days before they got a reply back from the Blade, but those three days weren't worthless. Lots of that time was spent training, recovering, and just treasuring the time spent with his family at the Castle. Whether it was sparring, talking, cleaning pods and tech, or even just hanging out with the other lions in the hangars, it was time well spent. He had a lot of forgetting to do after all.

When they got a single line of message back from the Blade, just two words, the first thing they did was take Blue and head back to the base.

_ She's here. _

“So, what was she like when y'did see her?” Lance asked, tapping his fingers on Blue's control panel. “I know it wasn't much, but what was she like?”

“Galra.”

“Apart from the obvious...wait, was that a joke?”

Keith just half smiled and tried to conjure up the last time he saw her. “She was very kind, very gentle, very protective…” This was just like grabbing at straws, he barely knew anything about her. “Well, what's your mom like?”

Lance glanced over to him at that, a fond smile on his face. “You wanna know? My mami is the greatest person I know. She's strong, she has an amazing bullshit detector, she makes th' best tostones an' she has th'...she has th' best hugs.” Lance faltered a little, and when Keith saw him he was biting his lip. “I-I'm sorry, I just haven't seen her in…a year? She probably still thinks I'm dead, if the Garrison even told her anything. Wait, that would mean...wow, everyone here has family back on Earth who thinks that we're dead.” Lance now looked a little worried, and he looked up at Keith. “Keith, Pidge's mom...she's lost her entire family to space, an-an' what about Hunk? His moms an' sisters, they'll be missin' him too. Oh man, Shiro's mom hasn't seen him since Kerberos...damn, Keith you're lucky you get to meet your mom while you're here. Really, we gotta get back to Earth soon, an' you must feel that too.”

Lance almost looked like he was going to cry. He almost did back on Arus, when he recalled his home in Cuba. Fuck. Hesitating at first, Keith slowly placed his hand on Lance's shoulder, just like Shiro often did.

“Lance, you know how much I wanna go back to Earth too? We're both Earthlings, right?”

Earthlings. Earth. Earth was home. You could take him away from the Earth, but you couldn't take the Earth from him. Over his dead body.

“Right, Earthlings rule.” Lance smiled. “I wanna go back to Earth too...that, and Pidge has officially run outta pads and she is freakin' out. Alteans don't have monthlies, who would've known?”

Keith has to thank Pidge later, because even just going back to Earth for a supply run would be a good excuse to just quickly nip out to his old desert shack.

Lance turned stiff as the base came into view, and the looming hunk of rock greeted them. Carefully, Lance and Blue landed on it, just as two masked guards came into view.

~

“She's right down there, fifth door on the left. Good luck.” On of the escorts instructed, Keith nodded and walked down the blue and grey hallway, light spilling in from the cracks under the doors. 

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Keith paused, hand lingering over the doorplate. This was it, finally, this was it, so why was he so anxious?

He closed his eyes as he pressed the palm of his hand to the doorplate.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If youre reading this, thank you! Theres only a couple more chapters left, just to put that out there! And I was a lil tipsy at writing parts of this, so deepest apologies if you can tell, but new chapter should be out in a week or two! Also, please give me some feedback, please tell me if Im boring you, if something can be changed, because Ive said it before, but I literally thrive on feedback and it is always a gift!


	6. Not a Chapter

Sorry, but due to some recent personal issues and complications, this fic is on a mini hiatus from once a week updates. I am very sorry for this, but I hope you all understand. The next chapter is half done, so I have started it but it may not be finished for a while. I am still active on my tumblrs however, so if you want to contact me you can do so there. Until then, see you all soon hopefully :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this far, please tell me what you think! I'd love to know how to improve, (and sorry if I sound thirsty but) comments always make my day!


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